


The Place Beyond the Pines

by sg_fic



Category: Wayward Pines (TV), X-Men RPF
Genre: Crossover, M/M, RPS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fic/pseuds/sg_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Marsden wakes up on the set of ‘Into the Grizzly Maze’… a good couple of years after the movie had wrapped. X-Men RPS/Wayward Pines cross-over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the maze / To be scared by owls

**Author's Note:**

> No idea where this fic came from, I was minding my own business when the plot bunny tackled me. If I’d have to define it I’d say it a scogan RPS crossed with Wayward Pines. Sort of. If you’re still here I’d like to thank my lovely scottxlogan for letting me pick her brain, this fic is pretty much the result and I had a blast writing it! A massive, big thank you also goes to my talented beta Bostongirl2003 in the hopes that I didn’t spoil her hard work <3 Needless to say, the events in this fic never happened and are based solely on my daydreams—I have no reason to believe that the boys are unhappy and/or are leading the lifestyles described in this fic. Lastly, if you think you recognize a Stephen King quote—you’re probably right. I’m OCDed that way ^^; 
> 
> Still here? Aww you’re the best! ♥

 

James weighed at least five hundred pounds in the soupy, semiconscious state he was in.

 _Breathing!_ Came the sudden, urgent thought, and he drew a shuddering, shallow breath.

He might as well have swallowed a sword.

The cold air tasted of blood and irritated his lungs, causing a coughing fit that hurt his stomach and ribs; _oh god, oh god_ —he tried stifling the coughs best he could, but only after a couple of long, agonizing minutes he finally managed to inhale without coughing, the air whistling loudly and burning down his windpipe.

…what the hell happened?

He blinked his blue eyes open…

He recognized the set! But… but how could it be?!

 _Grizzly_ wrapped over two years ago!

…but this _was_ the place! The camp fire, the red sleeping bags, the orange tent, the massive log the ladies sat on while he and Thomas Jane shot their fighting scene… Was he back in Vancouver?

“…Thomas?!” He tried, feeling like an idiot, “…Piper?!”

But no answer came. The only constant sound was that of the crackling fire.

Normally, he’d assume he was dreaming… but normally he wouldn’t be hurting all over.

How did he even get here?

The last thing he remembered was landing at LAX after a weekend spent in New York… He arrived home, rang Dogworks to ask if he could pick his baby up tomorrow as he was exhausted, then showered and crawled into bed…  Maybe it was a dream after all?

 _“Ouch!”_ In his despair, he tried pinching himself, but his attempt to move his arm made him groan as fiery pain shot all the way from his shoulder to his fingertips.

_What the hell happened?!_

Nauseated with pain he closed his eyes. He might have heard the fire crackling for another ten-fifteen seconds, then he was out cold.

“Mr. Marsden?” Someone intoned… “Mr. Marsden?”

He opened his eyes. The world was composed of blurry, bright shades of white.

“I can get you something stronger for the pain.” The woman said, and the world began taking shape once more.

A middle aged woman was peering down at him. She was dressed like a nurse, but her eyes lacked the kind of empathy that was expected from one. She looked familiar, and James turned his head, half expecting to see a camera crew and a boom man by the bedside… but they were all alone. This wasn’t a hospital scene, and if it was, they were filming a horror flick for sure; the room was well lit, but empty save for his bed. The corridor leading to it was completely dark.

He flexed his neck and his abs and ribs groaned unhappily, but he managed to hold on long enough to make out the white cast that was encasing his right arm before dropping his head back to the pillow.

“You suffered a concussion, closed fracture to the ulna and three cracked ribs, but it could have been much worse— apparently it was a nasty car accident.” She said in strange, inappropriate glee.

All James could do was gawk. What the hell was she talking about? Was he high? Was this a bad trip?

“Dr. Jenkins will be in to check you shortly, mind if I take your blood pressure?”

“Yeah…” the actor answered numbly, his blue eyes still wide with shock. Nothing felt real, but he cooperated if only for the tiny, tiny chance that he was tripping… If he started talking crazy it would end up in the tabloids quicker than he could say Jack Robinson.

She walked around the bed and he followed her with his gaze.

“I’m going to need your left arm, Mr. Marsden.” She gestured at the cast and smiled a crooked smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She looked more like a character out of American Horror Story than a nurse at CSMC… He was at CSMC, wasn’t he?

He was about to ask, but as he looked up her dark, joyless eyes rendered him speechless.

“Your left arm, Mr. Marsden?”

He drew out his good arm from under the covers, hating the way she kept repeating his last name, and was about to extend it for her to examine when all of a sudden—

 _“What the hell?!”_ James felt the blood drain from his face. He outstretched his left arm and inspected his hand in horror.

The nurse only huffed impatiently and forced his arm down, then fastened the blood pressure cuff around it.

James turned his head to the left and searched his hand with his eyes, needing to confirm he wasn’t seeing things… but no.

The wedding band glistened against his ring finger as if he didn’t spend the last four years in a drug and alcohol haze from hell, trying to forget his ex-wife.  

_What the hell?!_

“A-plus for you!” The nurse finished taking his blood pressure and smiled at him as if he was a toddler. “I’m nurse Pam by the way. And you are?”

“James.”

She raised her eyebrows in expectation and signaled ‘go on’ with her hands.

“Um… Marsden. It’s James Marsden.”

“Correct! It’s good to see your memory is coming back. You were delirious when you came in. Couldn’t remember who you were.”

…Oh? But his memory was working just fine! He remember every last detail from the weekend, and—

_Shit!_

“—I need to contact Dogworks!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Dogworks, it’s a dog pension near Hancock Park. I told them I’ll come by today and,”

“Hm-mm.” The nurse cut him, looking at him funny.

“Well,” she raised her eyebrows once more, her speech slower again, like he had all of the mental capacity of a child, “I believe that the Sheriff’s Department got in touch with your emergency contacts after the accident, and I’m sure that your husband will take care of everything, so just sit tight. He should be here any minute.” She offered him a tightly controlled smile that made it look like what she really wanted to do was laugh in his face, but still worried that he was high and might embarrass himself, James nodded.

“Where’s my phone and the rest of my things?”

“Oh, we don't have anything of yours. But I can certainly put on my Nancy Drew detective hat and check into that for you! I bet the Sheriff's office has everything.”

Why was she treating him like a god-damned eight year old?! Were things really that bad when he was ‘delirious’ and ‘couldn’t remember who he was’? Assuming any of it was true?

“See this little black button?” she pressed an elongated remote into his good hand, the touch too intimate to be considered professional, “I'm just one click away.” She trilled, then left.

 _“What the hell…”_ James muttered quietly. But first thing’s first—he reached for the ring.

Damn thing was tight, and the way the cast separated his thumb from his fingers made his opposing grip incredibly weak; he couldn’t pull it off.

_God-damn it!_

The ring was his proof! He needed to take it off in order to prove that he wasn’t insane. He’d figure out the rest later.

He pulled and tugged until it hurt, then searched the room with his eyes for a sink but found none… _some hospital._ Desperate, he brought the ring to his lips and licked its edges, then tried again… better, but still a no-go.

He pressed his ring finger into his mouth and sucked on it vigorously until he managed to loosen the ring with his teeth. He then pulled the finger out of his mouth with a wet _pop_ , and tugged at the ring while the digit still glistened with spit.

_Yes!_

He removed it, fully intended on calling Nurse Pam and proving her that he was sane, that someone must have mistaken the ring as his own and placed it over his finger while he was out cold…

…when he looked down and a sickening wave of nausea washed over him.

There was a pale tan line under the ring, so pale and so white—that it must have formed over years.

“Well look who’s up and at em’!” her voice made him jump, but her smile was short-lived; “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Mr. Marsden, I can’t let you leave.”

James gave her his best _just try me_ look and struggled to pull up his pants with his good hand.

“You’re in no condition to leave!”

She followed him out of the room, and into the empty, dark corridor.

“Well, I appreciate your concern.” James said through gritted teeth and summoned the elevator. The doors opened immediately as if the elevator had been waiting just for him… as if they were the only two people in the building.

“Mr. Marsden…” she protested as he entered the elevator.

Ignoring her he hit _ground floor._

The doors closed on the twilight zone scenario and he was already feeling better, but before he could release the breath he was holding the doors changed their course and opened again.

“You’re not thinking clearly.” Nurse Pam said, and James looked down to see that her foot was blocking the rails.

“Move your foot.” Whether he was the victim of a lunatic or a clever practical joke, the answers awaited him outside, far from Nurse Nightmare over here! But she just looked at him, unimpressed.

“Move your foot!” Real panic creeped into his voice as he got ready to forcefully shove her out of the way—

But just then she withdrew and gave him a patronizing little look; “I’m worried about you Mr. Marsden.”

The doors closed on her, and James was feeling almost giddy at the thought of never ever having to see her face _ever_ again.

“Hello? Hey, you alright?”

Bryan was sitting in his car, his pale face crisscrossed with the reflection of the rare August rain hitting the windshield. He lifted his glasses to rub his bloodshot eyes.

“Sorry? Um, yeah, no… No, I wish that was the reason I called…” He gave the lanyard circling his neck a strong tug and the claps came undone. He threw it on the passenger’s seat and watched it listlessly. The red stripe read _Fox Fox Fox_ all over it. The ID pass read _Bryan Singer, Director._

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase, um, it’s Jimmy... No, he’s not with me, I’m not sure where they took him... Something happened, but eh… I rather not discuss it over the phone… Any chance you’re in L.A.? If it’s bad? I… I don’t know. Just… just come over, okay?”

It was raining outside of the hospital, and the parking lot was as empty as the eerie corridors he just escaped.

Try as he may, he couldn’t find any clocks inside of the building, and had to guesstimate it was around five PM.

He needed to get back to the campfire. That was where it all started, that was where the answers awaited him.

The wedding ring was still a mystery, but if James could prove that there had been no car accident—then he could trust his panicked mind once more.  

To his good fortune, the rain stopped shortly after he emerged from the building.   

He started walking…

The hospital was built at the very outskirts of a small town, which was surrounded by massive mountains green with a dense growth of pine trees. At their very top the tall mountains were bare and mostly covered in snow. Above him, the sky was grey and wet, and the air smelled of rain and greenery. The whole area looked like a gorge in north-western North America. _Not in Kansas anymore for sure,_ he snorted…  

…but if he wasn’t in L.A… then where the hell was he?

There was a sign in the distance, and James could tell even from afar that it was the kind of sign that announced _welcome to this-and-that, home of the American eagle/the best fishing spot/band/food/drink in the States!_ , and hastened his steps.

He could make some of it out… _something rains?_

He narrowed his blue eyes, until frustrated, he started running towards the sign. It hurt his ribs and he could taste blood in his mouth, but every second of not knowing was getting on his nerves to such an extent—

**_Welcome to Wayward Pines, where PARADISE is HOME!_ **

…What the hell did it even mean?! The sign looked like a prop straight out of the Universal lots! A cheap one at that, made for a brief long-shot during which no one would notice the lazy writing.

Black dots were swimming before his eyes and he bent over, hands on his knees, and struggled to catch his breath. Maybe he did leave the hospital too soon?

But the very memory of that place made his skin crawl.

That was when he noticed the skid marks on the road and started making his way over, his legs shaky and his head throbbing painfully.

The marks led into the woods… but it was getting late and the day was growing darker by the minute…

Yet there was no mistaking the broken branches and crushed grass… maybe there really was a car accident after all?

Needing to know the truth James got off the road and into the woods.

The tall grass was completely wet, and James’s socks and pants got soaked within minutes. His teeth were chattering and his ears, nose and hands were beginning to hurt—he was underdressed for the weather. He didn’t even have a coat on, only his sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers.

He was about to call it quits when he suddenly noticed footprints in the mud… he measured his foot against one of them… perfect fit.

It still didn’t mean anything… Lots of guys wore size 10 Nike…

He followed the trail until he nearly stumbled in the quickly growing darkness and looked down—

—The log! He arrived at the campsite!

…But where was the tent? And the sleeping bags? Or even the coals from the campfire?

He bent down to inspect the ground for any signs of a fire… when it occurred to him that the earth had been so soggy… so completely waterlogged by a month's worth of rain… that a campfire was simply impossible. Not today, not yesterday, not until spring (but wasn’t it summer?)  

As if answering him, an owl began wooting, and suddenly panicked James turned his back on the ‘camp’.

He had to get back before night fell—the last thing that he needed was to get lost in those seemingly endless woods in his condition.

He started walking, following the trail of crushed grass and slushy mud while ignoring the sharp pain that was gnawing at his ribcage.

When he finally made it to the main road, he was completely wet with both water and sweat, and so faint that he had to sit down for a bit and catch his breath.

The town’s lights shimmered in the distance and it occurred to him he stood no chance of making it in his condition.

The sad realization that he’d have to go back to the hospital or he may freeze to death was the most depressing thought possible.

No… that was false. His next thought was even worse.

It was the realization that he’d have to go back to Nurse Pam’s care.

James could barely feel his feet.

He was ever so close—standing wobbly in the hospital’s parking lot, when his knees gave out and he sank to the ground.

The asphalt was wet and cold and the world was completely dark, save for a few streetlights that were scattered in the lot. The hospital’s automatic doors were but ten feet away, but James needed a minute to gather his strength.  

Now that he had the time, he noticed that the paint on the asphalt looked brand new, as if it was painted yesterday… or as if the lot had never been used.

The place reminded him of a movie set yet again, and he had to wonder if he was at Universal Studios after all… but he knew it wasn’t the case. He’d been there many times, and this was _not_ Hollywood. He suspected that Wayward Pines was the farthest place from L.A in more ways than one.

_Come on Marsden, up._

Immobile, the cold began seeping into his very bones, and his teeth began chattering once more. He counted to three and heaved himself off the ground, then slowly limped into the hospital.

He half expected Nurse Pam would be waiting for him at the entrance with a chiding glare and a mocking smile.

In reality however, the reception was empty and quiet, and he had to wonder if she went home now that her only patient had checked out… then the strangest thought occurred to him; he couldn’t even imagine someone like her having a home. It made more sense to him that they stored her in the broom closet at the end of each day... Then in spite of himself, he smiled.

_What the…?_

His smile vanished when he noticed the framed pictures on the reception walls, dozens of them… but what was it about them that caused the knots in his stomach?

They were all pictures of mountains round the year; fall, winter, spring… but they were all pictures of the _same_ mountains, some of them identical copies of the same photo.

James knew those mountains; he just witnessed their heights at first hand… Then it hit him; the reason the decorations made him feel so ill at ease. So many pictures—but they were all taken here. As if Wayward Pines was the only place on the face of the earth.

His bleak mood was back with a vengeance and he had to tear his eyes away from the wall and try to remember where his room was instead.

He had difficulty finding the elevator this time around, and so he began to slowly climb the stairs to the first floor.

He had to use the rail to pull himself along, and by the time he reached the first floor he was sweating profoundly. He tried deciding if anything looked familiar or should he keep climbing, but then he looked up…

_Guess it doesn’t really matter._

The second floor was all bricked up. He must have lost his damn mind.

That was when he first heard voices, so soft that he wasn’t sure if he was imagining them or not… he searched the long hall with his eyes—the first floor was completely dark save for a far off glow at the end of the corridor. Leaning heavily against the wall, James began making his way in the dark.

The closer he came to the dim light—the louder the voices became, until he arrive at a closed door, its edges glowing in white. Up close the voices weren’t soft at all. If anything it sounded like a heated argument… James held his breath and listened;

“Please, you have to calm down, I’m sure that Sheriff Pope is doing his best!” an old sounding man said.

“I have to agree with Dr. Jenkins, you need to calm down. He’s in good hands.” There was no mistaking Nurse Pam’s patronizing tone of voice, and James was relieved to hear that she was treating everyone like morons, apparently, and not just him.

“No, I will not calm down! How could you just let him leave like that?!” Someone had said, _and that voice!_ James pushed off the wall and zigzagged towards the room, ignoring the way his knees almost gave out on every second step.

He pushed the door open and entered the room, momentarily too blinded by the bright lights to see a damn thing… until his eyes adjusted, and while it still hurt his head, he could now recognize the room that he earlier occupied.

The curtains around his bed were drawn, hiding the three people from sight. They were still arguing, completely unaware of his presence.  

“Well, he didn’t exactly ask for my permission to leave and things were getting quite ugly if you know what I mean. The best thing that you can do is go back home and wait by the phone, Mr. Ja—”

It was just then that James pulled the curtains apart.

_Oh, God!_

His heart leaped up his chest, and an intense surge of joy and relief washed over him so violently that he felt dizzy!

“Jimmy?!” Hugh rose to his feet and crossed the small distance in two big strides.

Weak from the physical effort and sudden excitement, James felt like he might collapse, but Hugh caught him against his chest and held him in a tight embrace.

“Jimmy, thank God. You gave me such a scare!” The Australian lead said against his damp hair, and even though it didn’t make much sense, James hugged him back, not caring how much it hurt. Hugh was dry and warm and smelled like heaven, he was finally safe.

“Hugh… am I glad to see you…” he buried his face against the man’s shoulder, nearly crying in relief. He’d be lying if he said Hugh Jackman wasn’t one of his favorite people in the whole wide world, and seeing him made everything okay—he just knew things would start making sense now.

But Nurse Pam opened her mouth and the sweet relief he felt mere seconds ago crumbled into nothing.  

“Okay, Mr. Jackman. Let us take a quick look, then you can take your husband home.”

 

TBC


	2. Fields have eyes, woods have ears

 

 

James was numb. He let Nurse Pam and Dr. Jenkins undress and examine him, he let them draw blood and listen to his lungs and take his blood pressure all over again, then dress him in a _Wayward Medical Center_ gown instead of his wet clothes. He signed the papers they stuck in front of him without even reading them, and walked out to the corridor alongside them, to where Hugh was waiting for him, reading a sports magazine.

Hugh smiled brightly upon seeing him and folded the magazine, but not before James made out the title. It was a copy of _Rugby World_ and that much made sense when it came to the Australian actor, but the title had read _The Wayward Cup 1992_ , and James was on the verge of tears once more. He had lost it. No matter how real it all felt, he must have been huddled in the corner of an asylum, wearing a straightjacket.

“Come on, Jimmy,” Hugh rose to his feet, but all of a sudden dread mixed with James’s despair. She said he was delusional when he arrived… Was it really Hugh? Where would this man take him?

Seeing his indecisiveness Hugh gave him the world's smallest reassuring nod, a gesture that was meant only for his eyes. So… so this _was_ an act? Feeling a spark of hope he left the Nurse’s side and moved into Hugh’s arms, allowing the Australian to support him with a hand around his waist.

Maybe now he’d explain?     

“Come on, let’s take the elevator.” Hugh said, then surprised him by kissing the top of his head, and James didn’t miss the wide smile that spread across Nurse Pam’s face at his obvious confusion.

“Oh, Mr. Jackman?” she said, “Just a quick word before you leave?”

“Um, yeah, of course. Jimmy?”

“I’m fine.” He leaned against the closest wall. Hugh gave him a long, worried look before he reluctantly left his side and went to see Nurse Pam.

Dr. Jenkins, a short, nervous grey man, quickly joined in.

…why were they huddling and whispering in his presence? And why did Hugh allow it?

James suddenly wanted Hugh back so badly that he had to ball his fists and bite his lips to keep from doing something stupid.

So instead, he lowered his eyes to the hospital’s spotless, shiny floor. No footprints, no hospital beds marks, no nothing! Nothing looked real, it all looked like a closed set! When he looked up, Hugh seemed to be quietly arguing with the nurse, and it suddenly hit him like thunder—

“I know you!” He pointed at Nurse Pam, the words leaving his lips before he could think them through, but he was getting to the bottom of this and that’s all that mattered!

The three fell silent and looked at him as if he had lost his marbles, but he didn’t care, “I thought that you looked familiar from the get go, but you tricked me into believing I was crazy! But no—I see it now that you’re together!” and his accusing glare jumped to Hugh’s tormented features,

“Jimmy…” the man softly said. He looked so disappointed and worried that it almost unnerved the younger actor, but he forced himself to say, _“Prisoners!_ You were both in _Prisoners_ together! I remember watching it when it opened, you had your hair grey back then, and—”

“Jimmy!” Hugh was angry, the sound of his voice making James jump, “Come here.” He simply said. “Now, Jimmy, come on. I want you to come here.”

There was this natural charisma to Hugh, that made James follow his lead from day one, and now that he was so adamant about it, all the younger actor could do was push off the wall and move into Hugh’s arms.

“That’s it,” the built arms closed around his lithe body, crushing him against Hugh’s bigger frame, “I know you’re confused Jimmy, and I know that you’re scared… but Nurse Pam and Dr. Jenkins are going to get you all better. Okay?”

…and from over Hugh’s shoulder Nurse Pam had finally gave James the expected chiding glare and mocking smile.

It made his skin crawl but he forced himself to say “…okay.”

He was rewarded with another soft kiss, this time on his forehead, and against his better judgment James found himself leaning into the tender touch. He hugged the other man even tighter, remembering that Hugh gave him a meaningful little nod earlier. Hugh knew what he was doing.

“Oh, and Mr. Jackman?” Nurse Pam smiled an awful smile as she searched the pockets of her white clinic coat, “Here, you might want to give your husband one of these before bedtime, just to make sure he doesn’t run off into the woods in the middle of the night.”

“Thank you nurse,” Hugh let go of him so that he could take the pills and James looked at her with all the hatred he could master, but she didn’t notice. She wasn’t looking his way.

 _You may have won the battle but you will lose the war._ James promised her as Hugh guided him away.

“So… where are we going?” James asked once he was certain they were out of hearing range.

“Home. Why? What did you have in mind?” Hugh asked and James froze in the middle of the hospital’s foyer.

“James…” Hugh sighed. He left the younger man’s side so that he could face him, and searched James’s blue eyes with his hazel ones.

Scared and confused, James was pretty damn sure that he was begging with his baby blues—desperate for another reassuring sign, but all Hugh said was “Hey… Come on, Jimmy. It’s late, I’m hungry, I’m tired—”

But James was shaking his head ‘no’, his eyes wide and full of tears.

“Shh, shh—shh. Don’t cry,” Hugh took hold of his face in both hands, gently cupping his cheeks. “I know, okay? I know.” His eyes were ever so earnest and James’ hope was rekindled. But Hugh said nothing else and let go of him, making doubt creep into his heart once more… _Who are you?_ He felt like he was dealing with a Mystique version of Hugh…

 _…‘Hey, it’s me!’_ James was suddenly reminded…

“Prove it!” he demanded. How did he not think of it before?! Hugh would know! _His_ Hugh would know!

“I’m sorry?”

“I said prove it!” James repeated coldly, but he was pretty damn sure that he was begging with his eyes once more. He needed for this man to be _his_ Hugh!   

“You’re a dick.” Hugh simply said, and James’s eyes immediately darted down;

 _Yes!_ He almost cried in relief. Hugh was holding up his pinky, a dirty little joke that they shared from back when they rehearsed their Liberty Island scenes without the privilege of CGI and came down with a bad case of the giggles.

Till this day it never failed to make them (and only them) laugh… except for right then.

Right then James blinked his eyes, letting tears of relief spill down his cheeks, and Hugh closed his, hating to see James so scared and confused. He pulled him into his arms for a quick, reassuring squeeze, before letting go and guiding him out to the lot, where his car was the only one waiting.

They drove in a loud silence that was making James nervous.

“You know, I walked along the main road for hours today, didn’t see a single god damned car.” He tried, but Hugh only smiled a meaningless smile.

 _Talk to me, damn it…_ James’s heart sank. He tried again;

“So um… we’re… married?” the words came out with difficulty, and heat was beginning to spread up his neck, making him glad that Hugh’s eyes were on the road.

He couldn’t deny that his man crush on Hugh dated all the way back to 2003, somewhere during the filming of X-2 when he noticed that he was thinking about his Australian co-star more often than could be considered healthy… But he was straight and married and none of it mattered back then.

“Mm-mm.” Was Hugh’s only reply, and being slightly ticked at his off handed manner James cynically said,

“Well that’s just great! How many years now?”

“Five.”

“Wow, good on us! Who proposed?”

“I did.” Hugh simply said, never missing a beat.

“Ah-ah. So where did we get hitched?”

And that finally got Hugh’s attention. The man gave him a strange little glance before averting his eyes back to the road, “Right here in Wayward Pines, where else?”  

And James sighed and hung his head in defeat. _Where indeed?_  

Now that they got closer, Wayward Pines seemed like one, big suburbia. The woods were everywhere—the town seemed completely engulfed in greenery… at least at night time.

“Are we there yet?” James asked his ‘husband’ mockingly, refusing to give up on what he knew was the truth.

“Of course not, but you know that… babe.” Hugh stung back.

James sighed and Hugh shot him a blink-and-you-miss-it suave smile, reminding him why the Australian was considered a world-class heartthrob.

Only James didn’t need this version of Hugh right then… He was scared, confused and sore—he didn’t need the sharp, flirtatious, Hollywood star… he needed his friend. So he tried, as honest as he possibly could,

“Hugh… what’s going on? Answer me, please… I’m suffering.”

Hugh didn’t reply. He just kept his eyes on the road and it hurt even more than his broken arm and cracked ribs, more than—

_“Woah!”_

The Australian pulled over so quickly and suddenly, that James’s seatbelt locked and his heart tripled its speed.

Hugh undid his seatbelt and threw the driver’s door wide open, “I need to take a leak,”

Leaving the engine running he closed the door behind him, but stood there for a second too long and James had to wonder if he really saw the tiny head gesture or did he imagine it.

“…me too,” he told the empty car and got out.

They stopped in an unpopulated area near the woods, and the cold air smelt of sap and moist earth.

Hugh was walking into the woods, the car’s headlights the only light source, and James followed suit, still not entirely sure that he was welcome…

“…Hugh?!”

The man disappeared, just like that!

Cold dread gripped James’s heart—was he being deserted?!

—panicked, he turned towards the car and yelped as he nearly crushed into Hugh,  

“Hey!” Hugh gripped both his arms and held him in place, “Keep quiet and pay close attention now!” he waited for James to nod his understanding.

“Okay… okay.” Hugh narrowed his eyes. He looked like a man suffering physical pain while he searched for the right words. “I know what you’re thinking, Jimmy. I know that you want the truth… so here it is: the truth doesn’t matter. _Shh, shh!_ Listen to me! Surviving matters, and round here the only way to survive is to play the part. Yeah?”

But James shook his head ‘no’, “… _Hugh_ …”

“Quiet! Don’t _‘Hugh’_ me like we have secrets! The woods are the only place where it’s safe to talk, the rest of the town is bugged, they can hear us, they can see us, so just _don’t!”_ Hugh sighed, his eyes apologetic and sad. “We are married, Jimmy… five years, I proposed, you said yes, got hitched at the Wayward Chapel, been fucking like bunnies ever since, and when the time is right we are going to adopt… we are happy here, okay?”

James was terrified, but this explanation made more sense than anything else he heard since he woke up to this nightmare, so he nodded.

Relieved, Hugh released his iron grip on James’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug instead.

“I know it’s a lot to take in… but we can be happy here as long as we follow the rules.”

James had no idea what he was talking about, but there was plenty of time for these rules, it seemed. On the other hand, if the woods were the only place where they could candidly talk—

“Hugh, I just came back from New York… I had Lunch with you and Deb at Il Buco… does any of it ring a bell?”

Hugh stiffened, anxiety rolling off his body in waves, “We do not speak of the past. That is the first rule.”

James pulled back long enough to see that tears were misting the bright hazel eyes. _Hugh…_ the last thing that James wanted was to hurt the other man… he pressed his face against Hugh’s neck, frustrated and afraid. Nothing made sense—the only thing that he was certain of was that they were in over their heads.

“How do we get out of here?” he whispered against the man’s collar.

“We can’t and we won’t. Promise me!” Hugh tensed once more, and wanting to put him at ease James nodded, thoroughly baffled. He considered his next words carefully.

“The accident… I’m still a little confused… Remind me how did we meet?” and in spite of his good intentions, a tear rolled down James’s cheek.

There was a long pause, then Hugh said “High school sweethearts.”, and James didn’t need to look up to know that the Australian was shedding tears as well.

They stood in each other’s arms like that for another long minute, Hugh in a grey, elegant suit and James in a hospital gown and sneakers, until Hugh broke the silence, “Come on, before they decide we’ve been out here for too long.”

And wanting to appease his costar, James followed him to the car without asking who _‘they’_ were.

By the time Hugh pulled into a driveway, it was impossible to tell he’d been crying not too long ago.

He walked around to help James out of the car.

“Wow…” the younger man was halfway out when his eyes darted up. The house looked like something out of a magazine; expensive and all American.

“Who attends to the garden?” Even in the dark it was easy to tell that the grass, trees and hedges were carefully trimmed.   

“The council. Oh, and the strawberries began to blossom while you were away!” Hugh sounded happy enough to make James wonder if their talk in the woods really took place… And what council? What strawberries? He dared not ask.

“After you,” the Aussie held the door open for him and James stepped inside,

“Hugh!” James couldn’t help his soft cry of astonishment as he turned to face the Aussie; nothing in Wayward Pines had prepared him for such a fancy yet homey design. James had his share of real estates in California, but this place… it was _perfect._

He left his muddy sneakers outside and almost moaned with relief as his sore feet sank into the soft, luxurious wall to wall carpet. Goosebumps covered his cold limbs as the warmth coming from the lit fireplace caressed his skin. _Mm…_ the firewood must have been pine trees because it gave off a pleasant scent as it burned.

“This is… _really_ nice.” He couldn’t help sounding surprised. The way the house attacked all of his senses made his body tingle pleasantly, especially after the day he just had.

“Well of course it is, you designed it.” Hugh replied, making him cringe; he could just barely cope with not talking about the past… and the crazy, pretend talk about the present was making him truly uncomfortable.

 _He who controls the past controls the future; he who controls the present controls the past._ James was suddenly reminded and it made his skin crawl.

He turned to face Hugh, not sure how to discreetly ask him to stop ‘the talk’, when the man caught his eye, then looked up to the ceiling… to where a massive ceiling fan still stood in spite of the obvious, modern air conditioner that was installed in the living room.      

_‘…the rest of the town is bugged, they can hear us, they can see us…’_

Big brother indeed… James nodded his understanding.

“I… I want to take a shower.”

“Okay. Think you can manage on your own?”

“Yeah, should be fine.”

… _And if not?_ James found himself blushing when he considered the alternative. How far were they supposed to take this charade anyway?

“So, umm?” He pointed _up_ questioningly.

“Still on the first floor,” Hugh smiled as if it was an old joke between them, a game of _where’s the bathroom now, haha._

James sighed and nodded. His tired brain didn’t want to spend another minute thinking of Wayward Pines or the day’s events, he just wanted to accept things as they were, at least for tonight, and get some much needed rest.

He began climbing the stairs and Hugh moved into the kitchen when he suddenly called, “Hugh?”

“Yeah?” the man took off his blazer and stood there in a light purple bottomed shirt that opened to a deep v. He looked drop-dead gorgeous and James hated knowing that Hugh wasn’t going to like his next question, but he had to try one last time,

“…my dog—”

“You must be starving.” Before James could complete one sentence Hugh turned his back on him. “I’ll make you a sandwich while you shower.”

And he moved back into the kitchen.

_Yeah. Figures._

At the top of the stairs was a short corridor leading to three rooms.

Two of the doors were open, and it was easy making out a big bathroom, and a… closet room? Feeling like a damn ghost in the white hospital gown, he entered the small room and switched on the lights—nearly yelping as a long mirror reflected his pale, bruised face. Unprepared, he caught a glimpse of his own tormented expression and had to look away.

Heart still pounding hard, he started searching the shelves for clothes his size.

All of the neatly pressed garments were elegant, expensive and large enough to fit his tall, well-built co-star. They were all Hugh’s.  

But surely the Aussie kept some tighter-fitting clothes? Hoping he’d find something that wouldn’t look comically large on his much smaller frame, James tried the other side of the closet…

“No…”

_No-no-no—_

_“…NO!”_

“Jimmy?”

“…James?”

“James! Are you okay up there?”

There was a long pause, then James heard his ‘husband’s’ heavy footsteps as he climbed the stairs, and cold dread clutched his heart.

“Jimm—oh God, James! What have you done?!”

The carpet in the small room was no longer visible, it was completely covered with crumpled, discarded clothes, while all of the shelves stood bare.

James looked up at him, and it drained all of the fight out of Hugh like a plug pulled from a bath. “Why are you crying? Come here, babe—”

“No! How did you get my stuff?!”

“What?”

“My clothes! My entire wardrobe is in here! How?!”

“…but where else would it be? Come here—”

Hugh was carrying two mugs of hot tea and had to set them down before he could sit on the floor beside him, on top of all of his expensive and now creased clothes. He draped an arm around James’ shoulders and pulled him close, and James tried resisting, but he was weak… he’d wanted Hugh’s undivided attention for so long… ever since he got divorced, but the A-lister was always too busy... Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder if the other man was disappointed in him so he kept his distance, but now…

Against his better judgment James found himself leaning against the man and wrapping his arms around his broad torso. “…nothing makes sense…”

Hugh’s only response was to gently caress his wet cheeks, wordlessly wiping off his tears. The gesture was so tender that James was beginning to feel lightheaded, his face tingling pleasantly wherever Hugh touched him,

 _“…Hugh…”_ The other man was reading his expression intently, their faces mere inches apart, and he could almost feel the moment in which the fear that filled his heart was replaced with gratitude.

That was when Hugh moved in for a _kiss—_

James couldn’t help a startled gasp. It made the Australian change his course and kiss the tip of his nose instead… then the bridge of his nose… his forehead… his cheek bones…

It made him feel as though he was melting, Hugh’s lips were ever so soft, and warmth was spreading throughout his body…

The Australian was closing in on his lips once more, kissing the corners of his mouth, and James tensed again; he and Hugh were always touchy feely around each other, they always hugged it out, but _this_ was brand new…

 _“…you’ve done this before, haven’t you Jimmy? Kissed other men when the part required?”_ Hugh asked between kisses, his voice so soft that James had to strain his ears to make it out…

Hugh pulled back and searched his eyes while waiting for an answer. For a moment James just watched the older man’s face…

The hazel eyes were sincere and bright. Hugh’s perfect, spiky bangs had fallen out of place and a five o’clock shadow graced his handsome face. It had grey streaks in it, and even that added to the sex symbol’s appeal. The top of his shirt was undone, giving James a sneak preview and it looked like the Aussie was still working out… he’d be an idiot for turning Hugh Jackman down no matter the circumstances; others would die to be in his place…

That was when Hugh moved in again, but this time James simply closed his eyes.

The kiss was warm, dry, and tender and James moaned softly against the other man’s lips…

…when it ended—just like that, and Hugh reached over his shoulder for the mugs while James was still reeling, surprised that his heart was throbbing the way that it did.

“Here,” Hugh tucked a cup into his hands then started searching his pockets… “Take this,” he trusted something into James’s palm, “Nurse Pam said that you may experience relapses at first.”

James opened his fist… it was the pill that bitch gave Hugh in the hospital.

He shook his head ‘no’ but froze when he met Hugh’s eyes. He’d never seen the other man looking this adamant. It scared him.

“You’re my husband Jimmy—I’m not going to force you into anything you’re not comfortable with… anything but _this_. Open your mouth, swallow it down. I won’t ask again.”

James nodded, the promise in the man’s words was loud and clear and Wayward Pines had been hostile enough without crossing his only friend. He looked at the pill in his palm as if it was poison, then squeezed his eyes shut and chucked it into his mouth.

The uncoated pill was bitter and grainy, like old fashioned medicines, but the tea was fruity and sweet. He swallowed and risked opening his eyes.

“Atta boy,” Hugh rewarded him with another quick peck on the lips and James found himself just as confused and frustrated as when the guy first kissed him. Why did Hugh act like he was fragile? And why did his kisses leave him wanting more? Was it out of fear? A desperate need for comfort in any shape or form?

And was Hugh only kissing him as part of the act? Because _they_ were watching? He looked up… The tiny camera wasn’t even concealed up here. It just sat there above the door frame, a bright, red dot of light.

Hugh was following his gaze, “It’s a good thing you took that pill Jimmy. I’m sure you did your health a favor.”  

And the grave expression on Hugh’s face was all James needed in order to understand that _not_ taking Nurse Pam’s pill would have affected his health in ways he didn’t expect

“Hey,” Lisa greeted, her usually bright eyes ever so worried and sad.

“Hey.” Bryan replied, hating to be the messenger of such bad news. They hugged, feeling like two drowning individuals clinging to one another.

“Did you tell Hugh? Is he coming?” she asked into the folds of Bryan sweater.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why the hell not? He’d want to know. Jimmy would want him to know—he adores the ground Hugh’s feet touches.”

“I know, it’s not that, I just couldn’t reach him—I called, I left messages, I texted... Maybe he’s still Down Under, I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him in weeks.”

“Maybe…” Lisa agreed, her mind quickly going back to the problem at hand, her worry for her ex-husband threatening to overcome her.


	3. Into the woods (and home before dark)

 

James woke up with a tremendous jerk, covered in cold sweat.

_…where am I?_

The light in the unfamiliar room had been so bright that he was amazed he managed to get any sleep at all. He rose to a sitting position and his arm began throbbing with pain… he looked down and for a long moment stared at the cast with wide, panicked eyes.

Then the events of the previous day began playing out in his head and he groaned with disappointment, realizing that a part of him still hoped it’d all been but a bad dream.

Looking up from the cast he scanned the room with his eyes. The bedroom was big and bright, the soft linen and king sized bed as comfy and pampering as everything else in this house seemed to be. Only… where was his ‘husband’?

Hugh’s side of the bed seemed unused and it made his chest tighten with hostile, bitter resentment. _So much for the patronizing happy couple crap!_

He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, fighting off a sudden dizzy spell. Upright his head was killing him—he felt groggy and completely out of it…

…and yet, his need for a smoke was overwhelming.

He’d deny without blinking when asked, but he fell off the wagon a long time ago, and couldn’t remember the last time he needed a relaxing boost of nicotine quite as bad.

 _“…you didn’t disappoint me so far…”_ James told the empty room as he began searching the nightstand for cigarettes.

The top drawer was full of books and outdated magazines… the middle drawer was full of his boxer shorts… and the third drawer… _Oh._

James could feel his face heating up,

“Jimmy?”

James jumped and slammed the drawer close.

“You okay?” Hugh asked, unable to conceal his amusement as James’s bright red tint.

“…there’s _stuff_ in there…” the younger man had to look away, embarrassed. He’d never seen such a huge selection of lubricants and sex toys in his life.

“Yeah, that’s what usually goes into drawers.” The Aussie chuckled. He was clean shaven and looked fresh and handsome in his dark blue suit.  

“You know what I mean,” even the tips of his ears felt on fire and Hugh finally took pity on him,

“Remember what I told you. We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with… anything at all. Yeah?”

James nodded, but then fierce anger sharpened his gaze, “Where were you?!”

“What do you mean?” Hugh asked, still keeping his distance and even that annoyed him to no end—yesterday the Aussie seemed unable to stop touching him!

“Last night!”

“I was right here… the pill knocked you out, you said you were too drowsy to shower and fell asleep immediately after… Don’t you remember?”

“I… no.” He wanted to accuse the man of leaving his side of the bed in perfect condition, but it sounded crazy even in his head. “You’re going somewhere?” he demanded instead.

“Off to work. There’s fresh coffee downstairs and—”

“Work?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a busy day at the office, a new family arrived yesterday evening and I think I know just the place! Do you remember that cute little two bedroom house Peter McCall used to own?”

“You’re a real estate agent, then?” James cut him, ignoring the annoying as always crazy Wayward Talk.

“Mm-mm.”

“And a family arrived here yesterday?”

“They sure did.”

“Yesterday _evening_ … just as I was spending hours on end making my way in and out of the woods by the main road and didn’t hear a vehicle throughout?”

“You must have missed them, then.” Hugh was still grinning like an idiot. Not that it made the Australian look any less perfect.

“Yeah, I must have.” James echoed drily.

“Walk me to the door?”

“Sure thing, love of my life.”

The ground floor smelled of fresh coffee and pine wood. The morning light shone through the big windows in the kitchen and lit up the living room where the fire was eating away at a massive log.

“I know you’re not much into breakfasts, but there’s a sandwich with your name on it in the fridge, you need to gather your strength.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Nurse Pam said that you should stay home today, you’re in no condition to go outside. She said that if you don’t experience any more relapses you can go back to the library tomorrow.”

“The library?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m a librarian?”

Hugh only laughed and patted his shoulder, as if saying _good one mate!,_ and James gritted his teeth in annoyance.

“Okay, so just take it easy today, have a rest. There are Chinese leftovers in the fridge and I’m making dinner tonight so don’t worry about a thing.”

“…’kay.”

“Okay.”

Hugh opened the door and walked out, then stopped at the porch and turned “Come here,”

And reluctant James joined him. There were people outside, collecting their morning papers and leaving for work, and Hugh pulled him into his arms and gave him a quick goodbye kiss on the lips.

 _Surviving matters, and round here the only way to survive is to play the part._ Hugh’s words from last night echoed in James’s head as the Australian got in the car, started the engine, waved him goodbye, and pulled out of the driveway.

It took him over half an hour, but he eventually found cigarettes inside the pocket of one of his coats.

He filled a mug with black coffee, carried it to the bedroom, opened the window by the desk and lit himself a cigarette.

He inhaled deeply and something inside of him shifted back into place. Anxiety was replaced with relief.

He was so preoccupied by satisfying the craving that it took him a while to realize that the room became freezing cold; the pale morning sun was misleading, the air outside was wintry and crisp.

He briefly considered grabbing a blanket, but then his eyes landed on Hugh’s neatly made side of the bed and he crushed the cigarette so angrily that it fell apart, spreading tobacco all over the otherwise spick and span desk.  

 _Much better!_ He gritted his teeth in dismay— _everything round here is too clean, unused and phony anyway!_

Not bothering with the spilled ashes, he got up and grabbed his coat. If his phony husband was so worried, and wanted him to rest all that much—he should have taken a day off to attend to him!

And say what he may, the truth was always better than whatever the hell _this_ was!

The streets were awfully empty even for a suburb at winter time, but the occasional passersby stared at him so shamelessly that James resorted to looking at the ground to avoid eye contact.

He wasn’t surprised to find that the grey pavements were clean and bright, without any droplets of oil, black gum dots, or childish doodles in chalk. It looked as if Wayward Pines was established on the day he arrived there.

Then he saw something else on the pavement, and his heart skipped a beat. Two dark pairs of shoes were right in front of him, blocking his way, and reluctant he looked up.

The two strange men didn’t flinch, nor did they meet his gaze. Their grim, stony eyes were fixed on his backpack.

Yeah he was leaving. His only hope vanished when Hugh lied to him so bluntly and unapologetically this morning. If he couldn’t trust _him,_ James had no reason for staying another minute in this blasted place. He’d arrive back in L.A. even if he’d have to walk there! …from wherever the hell he was.

He bypassed the pair by walking around them, his gaze dropping back to the pavement, not caring how they’ll respond.

“Jimmy!”

He didn’t realize how tense he was until he jolted, eyes darting up.

A waitress was standing outside of a local coffee shop, waving at him enthusiastically, “Over here!”

“…Hey,” James walked over, no idea who she was.

“It’s so good to see you!” she hugged him tightly and his hands hesitantly closed around her back in a loose embrace.

“But should you be out and about right now?” She pulled back and her eyes glued to his cast, “It’s only been a day since your accident… did Nurse Pam said you can go?”

 _Her_ again! James gritted his teeth, annoyed, “Go? Go where? Where am I anyway?”

“Um… Wayward Pines.” He didn’t miss the way she paled and looked up nervously. There was no need to follow her gaze; he knew a tiny camera with its tiny red light was directed at them. “You know… the town whose heart you broke by playing for the other team?” she laughed a short, nervous laugh before adding, “You don’t act like yourself Jimmy. Maybe you should head back home—”

“Back home to my husband?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Yeah, okay.” He turned his back on her before he was reminded, “Oh, and indulge me, will you… Mag?” he quickly read her name tag,

“…Sure.”

“What is it exactly I do for a living?”

“You’re too funny Jimmy!” She laughed and entered the café, closing the door behind her.

 _“…yeah, I’m super.”_ James mumbled and adjusted his backpack with a quick shrug.

“Same thing you’ve been doing for the past twelve years, Chief Librarian Marsden,” an old woman who was sitting outside the café spread out her newspaper with a noisy flap until she disappeared behind it completely, “If I were you I’d go home Mr. Marsden. We’re all worried about you.”  

James set his jaw until it hurt, then turning his back on the shop he made his way towards the hospital; towards the way out.  

They removed his watch at the hospital and James could only guess it was noon. The pale sun disappeared behind the clouds making it even harder to tell the time, but it felt like he walked for two hours at least.

He got rid of the millstone around his neck the second he left the strange welcome sign behind, but the longer he walked—the lousier his mood had gotten. His backpack felt heavier by the minute, and the wind grew bolder and colder with every step that he took. He must have been out of his mind embarking on this journey, he was no Bear Grylls… heck, even his two days with the adventurer were incredibly hard, and all he had to do was follow someone’s lead.

But as isolated as this hole in the wall had been, he was bound to be able to hitchhike eventually, right?

 _Right._ He sternly told himself, and kept going. Mainly because the assumption made sense. Well… yeah, okay, mainly because he had a very bad feeling about going back. The way the people of Wayward Pines stared at him, the way they all knew his name… He had no doubt that Hugh already knew that he left, and feeling terrible for reasons he couldn’t explain, returning was not an option.

He caught a glimpse of his shiny wedding band and frown lines appeared on his forehead. He intended to remove it the minute he crossed Wayward Pines’ city limits, but decided against it when the time came. He tried telling himself that he kept it on because he didn’t have any cash on him (and couldn’t find any in the house while packing) but the reality of it was that he felt incredibly guilty for leaving Hugh behind. The strange, awful place was toxic and even if Hugh wasn’t being completely honest with him, James knew the Australian long enough to be certain Hugh would never intentionally hurt or deceive him—he was pretty much the nicest man in the world...   

He came to a stop and looked back…

 _They are probably already_ _looking for you…_ A panicky voice in his head warned, and the crazy words rang too true; _and when they catch you… who knows what they’ll do then._

He started running.

He ran for a good ten minutes or so, until the backpack felt impossibly heavy and he had to stop and catch his breath…

That was when he noticed—there were houses in the distance!

It gave him enough strength to start running again—he’d go straight to the police! Then he’d guide them back to Hugh—

_…What?!_

James’s good hand flew to his face, but he wasn’t sure whether to rub his eyes in disbelief or cover his mouth out of shock, and eventually it fell back to his side.

_Welcome to Wayward Pines, where PARADISE is HOME!_

But… but the skid marks weren’t there! And neither was the hospital! So… so it couldn’t be!

_Unless… unless…_

He didn’t want to even consider it...

It was impossible for him to travel in a big circle and enter the town from its other end… right?

Only this time his inner voice kept quiet.

Then he saw _them._

Like a scene out of Frankenstein, a mob of seemingly angry townsfolk awaited him on the main road. Most of them were crossing their arms… some of them carried baseball bats…

_“Get him!!!”_

Shocked, James dropped his backpack to the ground and ran into the woods.

_Did I lose them, did I lose them?!_

He didn’t dare looking back, he just ran and ran and ran, and that was when a thunder roared and the sky opened up and started pouring rain.

 _Oh, God oh God oh God—_ He ran in sticky mud that slowed him down and threatened to suck off his shoes, while low, thin branches were hitting his body and face.

_“—Ah!”_

The storm made the depths of the wood so damn dark that James almost missed it—but thanks to a sudden reflection of red light he stopped before hitting a massive, dark wall.

He looked up; the wall was as tall as a skyscraper, and red aircraft warning lights were installed along its length. He looked left and right; the damn thing extended as far as the eye could see. Now what?

_“FREEZE!”_

James was blinded by a sudden, bright light. Startled, he turned away from the wall and held up his hands to shield his eyes, when a loud wail was heard and blue and red lights began flashing.

 _The police!_ Hope was rekindled in his heart and he lowered his arms—only to freeze completely.

A dark figure was aiming a massive shotgun his way, a sheriff badge glistening on its chest.

“You are under arrest, hands on your head! Get down on your knees!”

And terrified, James knelt in the mud, while the rain was washing off his tears of terror.

“Out!” the man barked, and James carefully climbed out of the sheriff’s massive police car. Because his right arm was in a cast the sheriff couldn’t use handcuffs on him, and so he quickly rounded the car and aimed his shotgun his way.

“Try to run and I’m gonna catch you and shoot you up the ass! Bet you’d love it though!” he smiled a wide, toothy smile that only grew wider when he saw the naked fear in his young prisoner’s eyes.

“Move! Hands on your head where I can see them!” he barked and James began walking towards the station feeling faint with fear; the sheriff looked completely unhinged.

The front of the building read _Wayward Pines Sheriff Department_ , and still nothing about the situation felt legit.

“Arlene,” the sheriff greeted as they entered the small reception and an elderly, mousy receptionist looked up at James with so much hate that it made his mouth run dry.

 _“Traitor!”_ she hissed as he walked past her.

“In!” The sheriff opened a door and ordered.

James walked in with his hands in the air and froze;

“Hugh?!” he almost cried in relief—but the Australian gave him the same hateful look he just received from the receptionist and James’s heart sank; he’d never seen Hugh this mad… Saddened, he kept his distance, not daring to approach his angry husband.

“Look who’s here,” He heard a known and hated voice and turned to face Nurse Pam. “Glad you could finally join us, Mr. Marsden.”

Dr. Jenkins was there too, and a moment later the door opened and the sheriff joined them in the spacious office, now munching on vanilla ice cream as if he came there to be entertained.  

“You know, our request was a nice _easy_ one.” Pam said, her dark eyes blazing, “Stay indoors, go back to work tomorrow. But you just couldn’t do that, could you?!”

 _“…Hugh?”_ Scared, James begged, but the man refused meeting his eyes—his gaze was cast sideways, to an imaginary point by the sheriff's desk, and his jaw was set tight.  

“…Hugh? As in the man you just left?” Pam intoned and James jumped as the sheriff hurled something across the floor, towards his feet… His big, stuffed up backpack.

“No, I didn’t leave—”

“Quiet! I should have you reckoned this very night, along with what’s-her-name!”

“Have me… what?” Although he was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to know.

“Pam.”

“Don’t you _Pam_ me, Mr. Jackman! This is your fault as much as it is your disobedient husband’s!”

“What, no! Hugh had no idea that I was about to—”

“Shut up,” Hugh cut him off coldly and tears blurred James’s vision as he fell silent.

“You don’t need to punish him. It won’t happen again—I give you my word.”

“He broke the rules.”

“He doesn’t know the rules—it hasn’t been 24 hours since his accident. I can handle it, I can teach him his place. I’m telling you that it won’t happen again.”

“Maybe… and maybe if you would have plowed his virginal ass like you were supposed to—he would have known his place to begin with!”

“The accident was less than 24 hours ago—”

“Yeah? He’s still your husband! Bed him.”

And James could feel all of the blood draining out of his face.

“Pam… Hugh.” Dr. Jenkins interrupted them. “If Mr. Jackman says that he can handle his man, then we owe him the benefit of the doubt. Take him home, Hugh. Dry him off—poor thing is as white as a sheet.”

“Thank you—”

“But! …you gave us your word Hugh, and we will hold you to it.”

And after a brief, tense moment Hugh nodded. He bent to pick James’s bag up, slung it over his shoulder, then took a firm hold of James’s good arm.

“You might want to dry off the cast best you can and have him see me tomorrow if anything feels off.” Pam said and Hugh nodded. He gave James’s arm a little twist and a tug, making him hiss in pain, then led him out of the station, much to the sheriff’s, who was now noisily chewing his ice cream cone, amusement.

The night was dark and clear when they left the station, and big drops kept on dribbling down from the rooftops and street lamp, hitting the puddles with hollow _ploops_.

Hugh’s hold on his arm was angry and unrelenting; James was practically running to keep up with the taller man’s long strides. The handful of people they met on their way completely ignored him and nodded their hellos at Hugh, as if nothing could be more normal than him forcing James this way.

“…I wanted to get help and come back for you.” James finally summoned the courage to say, his voice uncontrollably low.

But Hugh did nothing except give his arm a painful little tug, hushing him.

Disappointed, miserable and completely wet, James’s teeth began chattering. He was beginning to lose sensation in his feet; the air felt cold enough for it to snow.

“P-Please s-slow d-down…”

Hugh suddenly stopped and James eagerly turned to face him—hoping that the man would finally talk to him, but all he did was shrug off his black wool coat then help James out of his own wet one. He wrapped James’s lithe body with his warm and dry coat and draped the wet one over his shoulder.

“Thank y-you…” James tried, feeling better already, but the man didn’t respond, only pulled at his arm once more and renewed his fast pace.

Tears were gathering in James’s blue eyes while he waited for Hugh to unlock the door. The other man’s silence was the worst punishment he could possibly receive. It made him genuinely miserable.

Hugh held the door open for him, then slammed it close behind them angrily.

The warmth from the fireplace made goosebumps cover his cold, wet limbs, but instead of relief all he felt was dread… they just stood there in the doorway in angry, tensed silence that made him cringe.

Then, faster than the eye, Hugh grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, making him yelp with surprise.

But even then Hugh kept quiet. His blazing eyes were narrowed with anger, and his ragged breaths were strained, but he didn’t utter a word, just stared at the younger actor with so much anger and disappointment it was breaking his heart.  

 _“…please…”_ the first tear glided down James’s cheeks, “please talk to me…”

But Hugh let go and turned his back on him. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out Chinese take away boxes.

James just stood there, rooted to the spot. He noticed that brown grocery bags were left on the kitchen island, untouched, and was reminded that Hugh had intended to cook him dinner. His chest tightened when he imagined the Australian coming home with the groceries, only to find that James had left him. Then something else came to mind, making him feel even worse;

_‘How do we get out of here?’_

_‘We can’t and we won’t. Promise me!’_

And he nodded…

“Hugh… I’m so sorry…”

The Aussie didn’t even blink. He poured noodles into a ball and shoved it into the microwave.

The intoxicating smell of garlic and soy sauce began spreading in the air and James’ stomach gave a hungry growl. All he had that day was black coffee and a smoke.

The timer rang and Hugh opened the microwave’s door and practically slammed the ball down on the table.

At least they were having dinner… that was a good sign, wasn’t it? But again, his inner voice refused to affirm.

When Hugh finally spoke his voice was icy and detached.

“Eat, change clothes and be ready in half an hour.”

“Ready for what—”

But Hugh was already making his way out.

“Oh, and Jimmy?” he stopped by James’s wet coat, which was discarded by his backpack near the door, then searched the pockets until he pulled out his cigarette box.

“You do that again,” he crushed the box in his palm until it was a long, crumpled tube, “…and you and I are going to have a problem.”    

He dropped the crumpled box to the floor and tobacco spread everywhere, then he slammed the door behind him, leaving James all alone.


	4. Do not try to leave

 

Despite his initial desire to crawl into bed and stay there. James reminded himself that disobeying Hugh was what got him into this mess in the first place. So he ate, removed his wet clothes, and skipping a much needed hot shower in order to make it on time, got dressed.

He wore his favorite pair of dark jeans and a button-up grey shirt, and told himself that he was an idiot for hoping Hugh might be taking him someplace nice after today, but he still preferred to be overdressed than to publicly embarrass his husband again.

He needed a shave, but the clock in the living room (the only one he saw since he arrived in town) told him it was quarter past ten; his half hour was up.

It was just then that he heard Hugh’s heavy steps outside and tensed, hoping that the man came back in a brighter mood.

It was a fool’s hope.

The Australian looked just as grim. Even paler now that his eyes rested on James.

“No good? I can change—”

“There’s no time.” And the look in his eyes… like he pitied him or something.

“Where are we going?” James nervously asked, wondering if he dressed up for his own funeral… but Hugh talked them out of it—he heard it with his own ears!

Hugh didn’t answer, he just said “Here, learn these by heart. Quickly.”

And James took the offered laminated card.

**_Do not try to leave_ **

**_Do not discuss the past_ **

**_Do not discuss your life before_ **

**_Do not smoke, use drugs or consume alcohol_ **

**_Always answer the phone if it rings_ **

**_Work hard, be happy and enjoy your life at Wayward Pines_ **

“What are these?”

“The rules. Three strikes and you’re out.”

“…Out? Isn’t that a good thing?”

But Hugh’s expression made it clear that it was the wrong thing to say.

“Come on.” He opened the door for him and together they faced the cold winter night.

The streets were full for a change, but somehow that was even worse than when they stood gloomy and empty.

They were many, but completely silent, and malice laid heavy in the air.

“…Hugh?”

“This way,” the man guided with a hand on the small of James’s back—although it really went without saying; all of the townsfolks were walking in the same direction; they all gathered in the main square.

A wooden stage stood in front of the town hall, and James didn’t remember seeing it earlier that morning when he tried making his escape. What was going on? Hugh brought them to a stop within a safe distance, while all of the town’s teenaged boys seemed to push and shove their way to the front row.

Looking around, James spotted the girl from the café and nodded at her, but she immediately looked away. Averting his eyes, James didn’t miss the hateful glares he received from her friends; rumors sure spread fast in the small town.

“You squeamish Jimmy?” Hugh brought him back to the present.

“I dunno… not very.”

“Okay. Come here,” and Hugh opened the flaps of his coat and gathered him into his arms. James immediately returned the hug, immensely relieved to be forgiven at last. He rested his head on the Australian’s shoulder, and still feeling a strong mixture of guilt and gratitude, pressed a shy kiss to Hugh’s neck, then held his breath worried that Hugh would reject him… but the other man acknowledged the gentle gesture by burying his gloved fingers in James’s hair and caressing him in a slow and absentminded rhythm.

James looked at the distracted man’s face, then followed his gaze into the crowd…

A man who was staring at them from over his shoulder quickly turned his attention back to the stage, and James stiffened, hackles rising.

 _“Him?!”_ he hissed angrily. He must have lost his mind, but he could swear he made out Michael Fassbender’s face before he turned.

What was the Irish actor doing there?! Was that why Hugh disappeared last night?!

“Shh, shh.” Hugh immediately tightened his hold on him, “Not him. Only you.”

And suddenly possessive, James searched his husband’s eyes. A storm was brewing in the hazel depths and his mouth ran dry—was he on to something here? … _Hugh and Michael?_ Was that the reason Hugh’s kisses were brief and platonic? Because he was stuck with James as his husband, a marriage decreed by the powers that be, while his heart was elsewhere entirely?

“Jimmy… do you remember the rules?”

The rules? He didn’t give a flying damn about the rules right then!   

“Hey!” Hugh grabbed him by the shoulders, “Pay attention—this is important.”

“Yeah, I remember the rules.” James spat, while angrily withdrawing from the other man—but Hugh didn’t allow it, he pulled him straight back into his arms.

 _“Don’t you dare make a scene,”_ He pressed his lips to James’s ear and warned angrily, _“you drew enough attention to us today, and if we’re not careful—next time it will be us up there.”_

And just then the sheriff climbed the stage to the townsfolks’ ear deafening applauses.

Hugh spun James around so that he would face the stage, but kept his arms around him in what felt more like a restraining grip than a hug. He pressed his lips to the younger man’s ear once more;

“Don’t look away; if it gets too hard or if you’re going to be sick focus on a piece of clothing or on the stage itself, but do _not_ look away or give any signs of distress. You got it Jimmy? I can’t stress it enough, we’re talking about life and death here. Got it? …Good.” He briefly kissed James’s head just above his ear before adding, “And recite the rules with the rest, even if you just move your lips. Yeah? Hey! Quickly, Jimmy—do you understand what I’m saying? You sure? …Atta boy.” He gave him another quick kiss before turning his attention to the stage.

The crowd fell completely silent.

A spotlight was switched on and aimed at two men who were dragging a woman to the center of the stage. Recognizing her, the townsfolk began whispering all at once.

 _“Shh.”_ Hugh tightened his grip on James, holding him down in forewarning while James’s pulse started racing.

The woman tried struggling while they chained her to two posts James didn’t register until just then, _“Hu—”_

 _“—Keep quiet. Focus on the sheriff’s boots.”_ Hugh whispered.

But just like with car accidents, James found that he couldn’t look away.

“Before we begin,” the sheriff took the microphone and the crowd stopped its excited murmur—the only sound was that of the weeping woman, “I'd like to thank everyone for being here. I'd like everyone to take a moment to thank Kate and Harold Ballinger for doing their civic duty and bringing this woman to justice.”

“—justice!” Someone in the first row shouted.

“JUSTICE!” The crowd answered in tandem, _“Justice! Justice! Justice!”_

They only settled down when the sheriff held up both his hands. “Beverly Brown tried to _leave._ ”

_“—BOO!!!”_

“She discussed the _past!_ ”

_“—BOO!!!”_

“And she’s been drinking _wine_ , endangering her body, her mind, and our community!”

 _“—BOO!!!_ _Justice! Justice! Justice!”_

“These are three strikes!” the speakers boomed, “As I've said many times before...” the sheriff held up a shiny, sharp cleaver for all to see, “...it is not just my job to keep this town safe. It's everybody's!”

“ _Justice! Justice! Justice! Justice! Justice! Justice!”_

“Hugh?!” on the verge of hyperventilating, James tried turning to face the man but Hugh didn’t let him;

_“Just don’t look at her.”_

But James couldn’t help it. With wet palms and a dry mouth he watched the devil in sheriff’s clothes approaching the sobbing woman, then grabbing her by the hair.

“We cannot tolerate people—” he brought the cleaver to her neck and James felt a sickening drop of his stomach at the realization he was watching an execution “—who don't play by the rules!”

There was a swift movement, then so much blood James thought he would faint—Hugh’s bigger frame was the only thing keeping him upright.

 _“Shallow breaths, the first reckoning is always the hardest.”_ Hugh took advantage of the way the crowd roared to discreetly whisper in his ear, but it only made things worse—first one? First one out of how many?!

“Citizens of Wayward, we are truly blessed.” The Sheriff started when the crowd settled down, “Not every community is as fortunate as ours. That's right. We truly care for one another. We protect each other. Yes. Sometimes even... from each other. And we will not allow anything or anyone to endanger our way of life. And I don't agree with the naysayers, those who say that being Sheriff is a thankless job. It's tiring sometimes. But knowing that I've got the support and the trust of every single one of you gathered here tonight, that's what keeps me going. Citizens of Wayward, will you join in with me?” He raised his arms in the air, and they all clapped. Then, like a preacher on Sunday morning, he began;

“Do not try to leave!”

 _“—DO NOT TRY TO LEAVE!”_ The townsfolks roared back in ecstasy. Hugh nudged him and James numbly and soundlessly moved his lips. Judging from the way Hugh’s chest didn’t rumble the other man did the same.

“Yes! Where else is there for us to go?

“Nowhere!” Someone shouted and the Sheriff smiled and nodded before he went on;

“Do not discuss the past! We must all savor the present.”

_“—DO NOT DISCUSS THE PAST!”_

“Do not discuss your life before! Let us accept each other for who we are today, and not for who we once were.”

_“—DO NOT DISCUSS YOUR LIFE BEFORE!”_

“Do not smoke, use drugs or consume alcohol! Healthy individuals make up a healthy community.”

_“—DO NOT SMOKE, USE DRUGS OR CONSUME ALCOHOL!”_

“Always answer the phone if it rings! We all must do our part.”

_“—ALWAYS ANSWER THE PHONE IF IT RINGS!”_

“Work hard! Be happy! Enjoy your life in Wayward Pines!”

_“—WORK HARD! BE HAPPY! ENJOY YOUR LIFE AT WAYWARD PINES!”_

“That is exactly what I’m talking about! That’s what makes our community so special!” he paused for applause before finally saying, “Thank you very much for coming out here tonight to show your support. Now go home ladies and gentlemen, go home and raise your glasses in honor of Wayward Pines!”

People immediately began to move, as if in spite of it all—no one really wanted to spend another minute in the murder scene. Only the teenagers who were occupying the first rows seemed to linger behind.  

Hugh spun James around and after one quick look at his face he sternly said, “Not here Jimmy, let’s get you home.”

In spite of their earlier fighting spirit, everyone walked home in complete silence. James just let Hugh guide him, his eyes glued to the puddly ground.

He felt nauseated and the contact of his stomach seemed to suddenly gain weight in an attempt to revolt. He wondered if Hugh insisted that he’d eat before leaving to ensure he wouldn’t end up vomiting bile.

When he thought about it, he spoke of the past, smoked _and_ tried leaving today… three strikes. It could have been him up there if it weren’t for Hugh negotiating for his life… Terrified, he felt faint again. Hugh’s gloved hand on the small of his back was the only thing moving him forward.

“Come on,” they took a turn and James recognized their driveway. Dropping his gaze back to the ground he saw somebody tucked a paper note under the door.

He bent and picked it up;

_Dear James,_

_Congratulations!_

_You were found physically well enough to perform your job as Chief Librarian. Please come to the Wayward Public Library tomorrow morning. 9 AM sharp. _

The unsigned, undated note was written on a typewriter, and Hugh who was peering down at it from over James’s shoulder shifted his attention back to the door,

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow on my way to work. Come on, you’re letting all of the warmth out.”

James walked in, still in shock, and Hugh left him in the living room, “Hold still,”

He moved into the kitchen and a moment later James heard the gurgling sound of two glasses being filled.

“Here you go,” Hugh held out a glass of whisky for him, the red tint on his cheeks indicating that he just had a shot in the kitchen.

“But…”

“One celebratory shot after every reckoning is allowed, remember? Drink up.”

James tipped his head and poured the whisky down his throat, heat spreading along his spine as he fought the need to cough and sputter; damn that thing was strong. It loosened up the tightly controlled storm that was brewing within his chest and tears blurred his vision.

“Not here,” Hugh’s hand was on the small of his back once more, guiding him up the stairs.

James stood in the bathroom, rooted to the spot in which Hugh left him, facing the shower and staring at the running water.

“Here we are,” Hugh came back carrying a plastic bag and a rubber band.

Steam was rising from the hot shower, fogging up the window and mirror, making him feel safe from prying eyes—

“No.” the Australian said as if reading his mind. Only once the room became completely misty he pulled James into his arms, “It’s okay, now.”

And James whole body began rocking as he sobbed.

They were trapped in this nightmare, their lives were in danger, and Hugh, who was his only silver lining, wanted someone else as his partner.  

 _“Shh. Shh. I know Jimmy, I know… I got you. You’re safe. All we have to do is to respect the rules…”_ Hugh whispered ever so softly in his ear.

 _Yeah, until you find a way to officially replace me with him,_ James dared not say. When he finally managed to breathe without sobbing he felt like sinking to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest, but the Australian would have none of that.

He spun James around until the younger man faced the shower once more, then pulled the folds of his grey, bottomed top out of his pants. Reaching around, he began unbuttoning the shirt until he could push it over James’s shoulders, careful around the cast.

 _“Now we’re just gonna use that…”_ Hugh mumbled while pulling the plastic bag over James’s cast and sealing the top with a rubber band, _“…there,”_

Wrapping his arms around James’s waist and resting his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder, Hugh undid his belt, zipper and fly, then bent down to tug his jeans off, leaving him standing in a pair of black boxer shorts.

 _“Hey.”_ He warned as James jerked, then proceeded to drag his boxers down until the younger man stood there completely naked.

Hugh touched the stream then adjusted the temperature, his chest pressing against James’s bare back in the process, and even though the Australian was fully clothed, James felt the gesture was as intimate as making love.

It made him feel both embarrassed and heady.

“Get in,” Hugh guided, and out of his depth James complied. “Come on, there’s soap in the dispenser.”

James kept his back on the man while he showered, tensed by the thought that Hugh might join him soon. He never experimented with a guy… although if he’d had to choose, he would have done it with Hugh. He always thought that the Australian was the most attractive man that he ever met. He was reminded of Nurse Pam’s words and wondered if making love to your partner was one of the Wayward Pines rules. He half expected to get suddenly pulled up against Hugh’s wet and soapy broad chest, and to his utter shock his cock began taking interest…

…but nothing happened by the time he was done showering.

He shot Hugh a glance from over his shoulder; the man was still fully clothed, and now holding out a towel for him.

Strangely disappointed, James turned off the water and took the offered towel.

By the time he dried himself off, the other man was already gone and James’s thoughts traveled back to Hugh and Michael… Michael and Hugh…

It infuriated him.

He hated all the bromance they demonstrated when promoting _Days of Future Past_ ; it made him feel that much like his Cyclops, he got left behind in favor of more famous and exciting men. He hated the thought of the two of them hooking up on top of it all!

It embittered him more and more—until he just couldn’t stand it! Hugh told him that they were happy here! That their marriage had been successful! He left the bathroom in anger, fully intended on confronting Hugh… until he entered the bedroom and saw the gorgeous man waiting for him in bed, looking sad and disturbed by tonight’s events.

James sighed. He didn’t want to fight… Hugh was all he had in this god awful place. Who was he to tell him who he could or couldn’t see?

With his battle spirit suddenly drained, the alcohol, emotional breakdown and hot shower made him dead tired instead.

He pulled a pair of clean boxers from the drawer, turned his back on Hugh, dropped the towel and got dressed.

When he turned around Hugh held up the covers for him and James nervously joined him. The sheets were cool and smooth and James turned in bed until he found the perfect position. He didn’t dare pressing closer to Hugh even though he wanted to, and Hugh seemed content to just lie there so far away.

It made him angry again, his insides trembling with an irrational mix of jealousy and disappointment, but after Hugh switched off the lights he turned to his side and wrapped an arm around James’s chest. It wasn’t a hug per se, but the caring gesture placated the exhausted young man enough for him to fall asleep.

James woke with a groan. He was extremely uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt warm and safe… _oh?_

Hugh was sound asleep, but at some point during the course of the night they moved into each other’s arms… they were both sleeping in boxer shorts, and Hugh’s built, strong arms were circling his slim waist.

Then James realized why he woke; he was single-handedly hugging Hugh’s neck with his good arm, and it fell asleep to the point he couldn’t feel it at all… he dragged the listless limb from under the man’s neck and waited for the pins and needles to subside, then closing his burning eyes he allowed sleep to claim him once more.

He refused to think about the demanding throb between his legs, telling himself that there was nothing unusual in him having a morning erection in the middle of the night.

The next time that he woke bright rays of light caressed his face and he was all alone in bed. He heard the water running in the shower, and at the smell of coffee turned to find a steaming mug waiting on top of his nightstand.

Smiling at the sweet gesture he rose to a sitting position and reached for the mug. He took a careful sip and the fresh, sweet coffee felt like heaven on its way down—it was the closest he could get to actually soothing his nicotine cravings.

Rising and stretching, he walked over to the window and watched the sleeping town awaken. He long accepted that unlikely and insane as it all seemed, this place was real…. Still, when he sipped on his coffee he found himself writing it down as yet another proof. The mug was hot, the coffee rich flavored… this was no dream.

“Morning Jimmy!” Hugh entered the room and smiled brightly at him, as if yesterday night never happened, as if they weren’t stuck in Wayward Pines like a couple of sitting ducks.

“Morning,” he tried smiling back, but the smile felt crooked. He wondered if _‘do not speak of the past’_ included last night. He had a feeling the answer was yes.

“We should leave in thirty, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Excited to get back to work?”

A flashback to gallons of blood flowing down the stage made his stomach turn, and he set down the coffee mug. “Very.”

“Mm…” Hugh joined him by the big window and loosely wrapped his arms around James’s waist for everyone to see. He was shirtless and his built body was still damp from the shower he took but James didn’t mind, he leaned into the comforting touch.

“See, that’s the spirit which made you the best librarian this town ever had, you practically run the old place.”

“Yeah…” James forced himself to say, “That must be it.”

Hugh was long gone, their red car out of sight, but all James could do was stare at the building, too lost in thoughts.

They drove by the main square on their way, and James strained his eyes—but there was no memory of the murder that took place there mere hours ago; there were no blood stains, and the stage was gone. He suspected that the body was gone, too, he didn’t see a single cemetery in the tiny town _. Maybe they just chuck the bodies over the wall._ He almost grinned—but the mental image rang too true for comfort. Now that he was aware of its existence, the wall surrendering Wayward Pines was visible from nearly every spot in town. How did he miss it before?

The Wayward Chapel bells began ringing and he took a deep breath. _Time to face the music._


	5. The replaced

 

James never cared for libraries. He didn’t like how they were always too cold, he didn’t like the smell of old books, and he didn’t like the strict murmuring quiet broken only by occasional whispers—as if all of the library’s patrons were punished for misbehaving. Mostly, he didn’t like how they were always located in stuffy old stone buildings that smelled of mold.

The Wayward Pines public library was all of the above; James hated it at first sight.

He zipped up his coat and crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm as he walked down the corridor, guided by the faint thuds of a librarian stamping cards.

Public message boards were hung on the walls, but most of them were empty. The only ‘ads’ pinned to the cork boards were cloud-shaped and hand-written in colorful crayons. Each cloud had one of Wayward Pines’ rules scribbled on it, and James almost rolled his eyes, but then he saw the tiny red dot high on the wall, notifying him he was being watched.

When he finally arrived to the main hall, the librarian desk stood empty. He strained his ears but could no longer hear the sound of cards being stamped. He looked around.

The place was so much bigger than he expected considering the size of the town. In fact, it looked more like a museum than a library, with its life-size skeleton, ancient looking globes, and all of the shelves standing so tall that each aisle was equipped with a rolling ladder.

“…Hello?”

The only movement in the big hall was that of floating dust, lit by the natural light that slanted through high, narrow windows, and the electrical one which was thrown by the overhead chained globes and pooled in glowing circles on the wooden floor.

“Jimmy!”

Startled to death he quickly turned—

—only to start laughing.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me!”

But the Scottish actor only gave him a long, worried look, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I was reminded of this old, dirty, umm… poem. So you work here too? Are we _‘James and James at your service?’_ Or is it Jimmy and McAvoy? What do we go by?”

“They said that you haven’t been yourself since the accident. Some even say that you tried to leave, but Nurse Pam vouched that you didn’t. Good thing too, I’d hate to see you up there in Main Square.”

“Yeah.” James’s good humor was drain out of him in an instant. “So, say… I’m still a little out of it since the, um… accident. Any chance you could quickly talk me through things?”

“Things?” McAvoy laughed, and for a brief moment he looked like his lively and full of mischief self, but James blinked and it was gone, “We shelve the books, tape torn pages, make library cards for new patrons and switch off the VCR in the video room when yet another student carelessly leaves it on. I go as far as dropping letters to their parents but you never bother.”

“…VCR.”

“Yep. Come on, I’ll show you how our shelving system work! This way,”

“…the newspaper stand is empty.” James noticed as they made their way to the shelves.

“We haven’t had an issue for many years now. I guess there hasn’t been that much news.”

“…I guess not.” James muttered in despair. If they managed to housebreak the happy-go-lucky Scot, what chance did he stand in the midst of his mid-life crisis?

“Okay, here we are,” McAvoy brought them to a stop at the _D-E_ aisle, and James had to wonder why did they bother— shelving books in an alphabetical order sounded pretty straight forward to him. _“Derting… Derting….”_ The Scot mumbled as he searched the shelf with his eyes, “Here, take this one for example.”

And he pulled out a book named _‘The Replaced’_ , “An amazing author! You read it, of course?”

“Um… No.” _Kim Derting?_ James never heard of her.

“Really?! It’s one of my absolute favorites, check out the writing style!” McAvoy opened the book, turning pages enthusiastically until he found what he was looking for.

“Wh—” James bit down an unnecessary _why are some of the words underlined?_

 _Way to go genius_ , he mentally kicked himself as he waited for McAvoy to explain.

“See here?” The Scot ran a finger along one of the lines and James quickly picked up the underlined word in it.

_‘are’_

“Or this?” he ran his finger along another line— _‘you’_

“Or here,”

… _‘and’_ … _‘you’…_ then he turned the page.

On the other side the Scottish actor had only underlined some of the letters. He began running his finger over the lines, showing James the correct order;

 _‘f’… ‘u’… ‘c’…_ and although James had a good idea where this was going, the Scot kept on dictating; _‘k’…’i’… ‘n’… ‘g’._

“Well? What do you think?”

James blinked, dumbstruck… _‘are you and you fucking?’_ What did ‘ _you and you’_ even mean—oh.

“Um, no. Not really.”

“Not your cup of tea?”

“I’m not sure… I think that her writing style may take some getting used to.”

“You’re kidding me! I mean—” and he opened the book again at a different page before running his finger over the lines once more,

_…’you’ …‘should’…’or’ …’just’ …‘like’…‘his’…_

There was a long, unnerving pause during which McAvoy struggled to single-handedly turn the page,

_…’first’…’husband’…_

_Hugh’s what?!_ His mind revolted, but he forced himself to pay close attention,

_…’you’ …’will’ …’be’…_

And McAvoy slammed the book close, his thumb covering the word _‘the_ ’;

 _‘…replaced’_.

“Still no?”

James shook his head ‘no’, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Too bad. But at least you make a great chief librarian!” McAvoy patted his shoulder and winked. “Okay, so as far as shelving goes,” And the other actor dived into a long explanation that James couldn’t follow even if he tried, his mind was reeling….

…what was going to happen to him if their marriage failed?!

McAvoy saw that he was completely out of it, and gave him a no-brainer task for the rest of the day.

So now, James sat at the librarian desk with a tall pile of books and taped their torn covers and pages, too numb to wonder how they’ve gotten into such a poor state considering that the library stood empty all day long.

“James?”

A woman asked, and assuming that she meant McAvoy James minded his own business, at least until she said,

“Mr. Marsden?”

He looked up. A blonde woman in her forties was looking down at him and forcing a smile.

“Hi, I’m Megan Fisher, the school psychologist?”

“Yeah, of course.” James found himself saying, sad to learn that the crazy Wayward Talk was fast becoming a second nature of his; he didn’t even realize that the town had its own school.

“Funny how we never officially met. Guess it’s one of the small town syndromes—you hear so much gossip that you feel acquainted and forget to introduce yourself!” She smiled again. This time, her smile looked both genuine and toxic, “Of course, I’m choosing not to believe the latest piece of gossip about you—it simply can’t be true, now can it?”

“Well, that very much depends on what you heard!” James forced a short, nervous laugh.

“Only that you broke the law…” she held his gaze until he had to look away, “but I trust Nurse Pam is telling the truth, as opposed to the _several_ men who insist that they saw you. As a matter of fact, she’s the one who sent me here today.”

“Oh?” James was liking it less and less by the minute.

“She told me that you were feeling a little confused and disoriented? Mind if we go somewhere private and have a quick chat? Just to see if we can raise any red flags concerning your mental health?”

“Um… now?” he sure wanted to speak to Hugh first… or even McAvoy—where the hell did he go?

“I don’t see any reason to postpone it, doesn’t look like your busiest day to me.” And the look in her eyes... she was mocking him.

Still, he had no choice but to cooperate.

“The video room was nice and quiet last I checked.” She said, already turning her back on him, and reluctant he got up and followed suit.

“So,” Megan Fisher began. The video room was even colder than the main hall, and James felt like he was being interrogated under torture.

“I heard you’re a little confused?”

“I was, but I feel better now.”

“Okay. How about we start by introducing ourselves, then?”

“Um…” what the hell was he supposed to say?

“I’ll start. I’m Megan, a psychologist and hypnotherapist, and I’ve been working at the Wayward Pines community school for… what? Fifteen years now? I met Brad—my husband and your mayor, in my senior year, back when I was studying hypnotherapy and he was a law student. How about you?”

“So your bachelors is in clinical hypnotherapy then?”

“Yes. Now you,”

“—So you’re not really a psychologist?”

He hit a nerve—red, angry blush colored her cheeks and she said, “I’m the _only_ mental health authority in Wayward Pines. Are you going to take my word for it, or will you put my jurisdiction to the test?”

“No, just wanted to understand who I am speaking to here—”

“Well I answered that,” she cut him off angrily, “now answer _me_. Tell me about yourself—or we can meet later today in the hospital… then I won’t be as nice.” she threatened, making it very clear that she was no professional, just a Wayward bully who got lucky.

“Okay. Alright…” James stalled, trying to put together his fake life story in a couple of sentences—the last thing that he wanted was to arrive back at that horrible place. “…I’m Jimmy, I’ve been the chief librarian at the Wayward Pines public library for twelve years now, I met my husband back in high school and we’ve been together ever since.”

“That’s very good, James!” the crazy Wayward Talk seemed to placate her… guess he was becoming really good at it. “And tell me James, are you happy here?”

“Yeah. I love my job… I… I love this town.” He gritted his teeth while saying.

“Good. How about your husband?”

“Yeah, I love him very much.” It was the first true thing that he told the manipulative woman. He may not love him _that_ way, but he loved Hugh with all his heart; the Australian was one of the best men that James had ever met.

“Good, so you guys run a happy little house hold, then?”

“I should think so, yeah.”

“Good, good. Now don’t get this the wrong way James, but here in Wayward Pines we healthcare professionals take our patients’ wellbeing very seriously, we get quite involved, if you know what I mean? So my next question is not at all personal, just part of the routine.” She paused and studied his face carefully, making him feel like she was using her voodoo techniques on him, before asking;

“How’s your sex life?”

“Umm… good.” Fierce blush began coloring his cheeks. It was made worse when her eyes blazed and her eyebrows arched, calling him a liar without saying a word.

“That’s great,” she said dryly, mockingly. “So. How often do you guys have intercourse?”

“…I’m… I’m not sure…”

“…Give or take?” she smiled her toxic, toothy smile, calling him up on his lie.

“Um… we…” he couldn’t meet her eyes. Real fear was twisting up his guts and he was reminded of the Sheriff raising up the sharp, shiny cleaver to the crowd’s roars of ecstasy.

“Look at me James... Your husband is a very valuable member of our community, and an inimitable contributor to our sense of stability. It is a great privilege to be able to sexually fulfil such a strong man. Many would kill to be in your place.”

“…I know.”

“Then why won’t you let him make love to you?”

“I’m not…” _gay,_ he tried saying unsuccessfully. His only other option was to admit that Hugh didn’t want him and was seeing someone else, which, according to McAvoy, very likely meant his doom. But she was still looking at him, waiting for an answer…

“I’m scared…” he finally said, which wasn’t a lie per se, then feeling her gaze harden he added without thinking “Do you think I should talk to him about it?”

“No.” came the icy, patronizing reply, “There’s nothing to talk about. You just lie on your back, spread your legs wide and relax for him. Keep your eyes on his face and moan when you see he’s having it good. Simple, right?” She rose to her feet so that she could look down at him, and too shocked James didn’t move a muscle, “I don’t know what made you feel too haughty to respect our laws or submit to your man, but I sincerely advise that you please him.”

Only there was nothing sincere about her character, and just when he thought that she was finally done with him, she delivered one last, fatal blow.

“Maybe if you’ll spread ‘em wide and take it hard and good—your man will fall asleep and actually spend the night, instead of looking elsewhere.”

“Jimmy?”

The actor gasped and nearly dropped the book he was holding. One look at McAvoy’s face, and he could tell that it was obvious he’d been crying.

“Hey…” the Scot softly said and pulled out a chair. “I know it must be rough after the accident and all that… I remember the hell I was going through after my accident,”

“What acci—“

 _“Shh,”_ McAvoy cupped his face with his right hand, the gesture alarmingly intimate but also… god, he was horny. All of the fear and excitement, the nicotine deprivation and Hugh teasing him with too brief kisses and caresses made him want to unwind in the worst kind of way.

“I know Megan can be quite direct, but she’s been around since forever, and she’s got lot of experience. You need to heed the advice and ignore the bullying when it comes to her.” McAvoy said, his hand still gently caressing James’s cheek, “Hey… look at me?” he waited until their blue eyes met to run his thumb across James’s full lips—

 _“Stop!”_ James pulled back, embarrassed by his physical reaction to such a simple touch… but he had spent the night half naked in Hugh Jackman’s arms, and didn’t want to admit that he was feeling sexually frustrated—not even to himself.

“Easy! I’m not hitting on you, I’m a married man.” And for the first time James’s eyes darted to the Scot’s name tag; _James McAvoy-Fassbender_

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to ask him _‘who else? Patrick and Ian?’_ but instead he had to bite down on a bitter sob.

“…Don’t. You can be very happy here, you know. Just think—I barely touched you and got such an obvious reaction… now imagine how good it will feel to let go completely… to dedicate yourself to your man.”

“I can’t.” was the other man blind? Couldn’t he tell that their husbands were having an affair?

“Try. You may surprise yourself…” McAvoy was about to turn his attention back to the cards he was organizing when his eyes suddenly lit up,

“Oh! You know what we should do? You two should come over for dinner! Tomorrow is homemade pizza night, let say… eight o’clock?”

“Um—”

“—Don’t over think it, Jimmy, it’s a date! Now go home, I think half a day is more than enough after all you’ve been through… And please—think of what I said.” He winked again, and yeah… the Scot was right. Even his rather innocent flirtations were setting fire to James’s blood—letting go with Hugh would probably blow his mind… but alas, Hugh was fucking Fassbender, who in turn was fucking McAvoy.

“Thanks, see you tomorrow.” Depressed, he made his way out of the building, wishing he’d never set foot in the Wayward Pines public library ever again.

Then a couple of hours later, his wish was almost granted in the worst kind of way.

_Stubborn_ , he mentally kicked himself.

He should have waited for Hugh to pick him up. Instead, he left a message for him with McAvoy and decided he’d walk home. And yeah, he got lost.

He figured that as long as he’d keep his back on the wall he’d arrive at the coffee shop, and from there he could manage, but after a ten minute walk he recognized the turn that they took last night—the one leading to the Main Square, and felt compelled to take it.

 _Just one quick look,_ he told himself back then.

But it wasn’t the right turn, and now he was somewhere in the outskirts, unable to ask for directions without admitting that his life here was fake…

The hateful stares he received from the locals suggested that he could ask for directions all he wanted—they knew what he did and the only directions they’d give him were to Main Square; where he could burn at the stake.

_Woah!_

He jumped as a door closed with a bang. His eyes darted towards the house and he caught the owner’s hateful gaze before he drew the curtains shut.

 _…okay…_ he hurried his steps, _possibly not the best area to get lost at… but look at the bright side—they clearly do not discard the dead over the wall._

He had found the cemetery.

As if the whole scenario wasn’t eerie enough, the sun was beginning to set. Seemed he would have to navigate home in the dark.

“Hey Marsden!”

Someone shouted and James turned. Three overgrown men were approaching him—closing in on him in a way that forced him to retreat into the graveyard.

“…Do I know you?” it was a risky question around here, but whatever they wanted—he hoped they could talk it out.

“Do you know us?!” they laughed. That was when James noticed one of them carried a baseball bat, “I don’t know, turn your cowardly ass on us and run so we can chase you, see if you recognize us then, faggot.”

“Look man, I know what it must have looked like—but I wasn’t trying to leave,”

“Of course not! Nurse Pam made that crystal clear to everyone... Made us look like tools while she was at it! So what did you do to avoid a reckoning? Pretend she’s a man and fucked the old hag?”

“I wasn’t trying to run.” James repeated, trying to sound calm and reassuring while inside his heart was beating so wildly it hurt.

They moved closer, unimpressed.

_Now what?!_

The afternoon sun sank low and the tombstones projected long, dark shadows that seemed to point at the town. James raked the cemetery with his eyes until to his relief he found it, a tiny red dot on the entrance gate—they were watching, Nurse Pam wouldn’t let them beat him to death, right?

That was when the first punch was thrown, cutting James bottom lip against his teeth. Panicked, blood running down his chin, he tried to run—but cornered, they launched and grabbed one of his shins, making him fall face down on the ground. That was when he felt a strong, violent tug and his jeans were pulled down all the way to his knees,

“Should we fuck you with this bat? Would that be considered a punishment or an award on your part?”

_“No—stop!”_

Two of them grabbed him by the ankles and forced his legs apart, while the third pressed the bat’s wooden, rounded tip against James’s ass, _hard,_ until it parted his buttocks through the fabric of his shorts, making James cry out in fear and alarm.

“Please, hear me out—” he began begging then jumped as a speaker boomed;

“Everyone freeze!”

_Oh, God…_

He never thought that he’d be happy to see Sheriff Pope and his massive shotgun.


	6. The Wolverine

 

“Come on, get out,” The sheriff opened the door for him and James got off at the police station for the second night in a row.

“Jimmy!” Hugh was waiting for him in front of the building, his handsome face lit in flashing red and blue and his eyes dark with concern.

“Hey… I’m sorry,” James started, but Hugh caught his face in both hands to inspect the damage, “Jesus Marsden… What have they done to you?”

“Nothing… the sheriff got there in time.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to call—”

 _“I’m fine,”_ James hurriedly said, suspecting that he’d try to sleep off acute appendicitis before willingly seeing any of the medical staff at Wayward Pines.

“Okay…” Hugh threaded fingers in his hair and kissed the top of his head, then asked the Sheriff over James’s shoulder, “Do you still need him?”

“No, I got everything I need, Mr. Jackman. You can take him home.”

“Thank you, and thank Arlene for letting me know.” Hugh said as the man offloaded the three thugs from his truck. They were handcuffed and under gun threat, but it didn’t stop them from staring at James, and the hate in their eyes… it seemed to have tripled.

“I’m sorry, I should have waited for you.” James tried again once they entered the car, more scared than sore by the day’s events. “I keep on spoiling your evenings…”

As if to suit his lousy mood, it started drizzling while they buckled up.

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“…not really. Guess they just thought I deserve to be recko—”

“Hey!” Hugh cut him off, not letting him say the word, “These idiots have been on the Sheriff’s black list for months, he’s only too happy to have caught them in the act. They are part of a group which supports civil arrests and trials. We can’t afford that, it will be the end of our peaceful existence here.”

 _‘Peaceful’…_ why did Hugh insist to overdo the crazy talk when it was just the two of them? Even within the rules—a certain degree of honesty was still made possible, and James desperately needed to feel _something_ real; Hugh was meant to be his lifeline around here.

He tried again. “So you’re against this group?”

“Yeah.”

“…Publicly against them?” he was fishing for hints, for Hugh to admit that he had a ‘public self’—the guy who cared about this power play crap, and there was his private self—the _real_ Hugh who knew that the people running Wayward Pines were no better than the thugs who were trying to overtake it.

“Of course publicly, you know that Jimmy. People just seem to listen, so I say it like it is.” He laughed quietly.

 _‘…Your husband is a very valuable member of our community, and an inimitable contributor to our sense of stability...’_ James was suddenly reminded, then mumbled “People listen to you…”

“For some reason.” The Aussie smiled.

“…like the fact that you’re Hugh Jackman?”

 _“Jimmy.”_ There was a warning in his voice, but frustrated, pained and scared, James went on—he needed Hugh’s trust and sincerity as much as he needed air—

“I mean, who wouldn’t listen to the Wolveri—”

Hugh hit the brakes and there was a loud screech as they came to a sudden stop. The Australian gave him a disbelieving glare, and it sobered James up like a bucket of ice,

“Shit, Hugh, I’m sorry… I’m not thinking straight I’m…” But he couldn’t find the right words—he was hurting too bad… Why did Hugh remain so distant and aloof? Even McAvoy, who was practically a stranger, had shared his inner world, his _real_ inner world, with him in ways Hugh refused to—even now when James was so scared and sore. He nearly got raped today for crying out loud!

“Jimmy… Stop crying.”

Sobbing, James ached to be held by the man, but Hugh wouldn’t touch him; “Round here you either swim or you drown. I’m trying to help you get to safety—but you go out of your way to take me down with you, instead.”

“I know… You’re right… I’m sorry… I will do anything for you. Always, Hugh—”

“I already told you what to do.” Hugh cut him off, then sighed in frustration. The silence stretched between them for a short eternity, James’s stifled snivels and the falling rain hitting the windshield the only sounds in the car, until the Australian shifted back into first gear.

“Let’s just get you home, it’s been a long day.”

“Okay.” James turned away from the man to wipe off his tears. He looked out of his wet window at the frosty, lit up town and thought long and hard…

He realized that his need to feel closer to Hugh was his survival instinct kicking in. His gut feeling told him as much before McAvoy confirmed that the success of their relationship determined James’s fate. If he got it right, then whoever ran this place wanted to secure Hugh’s happiness and cooperation by finding him the right mate, and it was up to James to succeed where his predecessor had failed, or he too, would be replaced...

But if Hugh refused getting emotionally closer to him by bending the rules a little… than his only other option was to become physically closer to the man... He could see how being the Australian’s lover would secure his place in Wayward Pines, and how it was his only chance of being even slightly happy as long as he was stuck there… only the other man wanted Fassbender, right?

Turning away from the window and paying close attention to Hugh’s facial expression, he said, “Before I forget, James invited us to his and Michael’s for dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Hugh simply said, not surrendering anything except for his ongoing anger with him.

In spite of it all, Hugh’s anger abided when he saw James’s face at home, “Shit Jimmy… your lip is all blue… I’ll get you some ice and pain killers, go get changed.”

James showered and changed, then joined the other man downstairs, gratefully accepting the medication and ice compress.

Hugh made pasta for dinner, and both admittedly exhausted, they ate by the fireplace in silence, their bare feet casually touching under the table as if they were an actual couple. Hugh’s presence, the meal and the unexpected intimacy calmed James down until the day’s events began feeling like a half-remembered bad dream.

They moved to the sofa after they ate, and thoughtful, Hugh took James’s good hand and held it in his lap before saying, “In spite of what happened you’re safe here, you know that? Some people think that the added security is a nuisance, but it is keeping us safe. No one can lay a finger on you without them knowing.” James thought that ‘ _added security’_ was the euphemism of the century, but right then he was far more interested in how nice holding hands like this felt.

Scraping enough courage he moved in to rest his head against Hugh’s shoulder, and was awarded with a kiss on the forehead that made his entire body tingle pleasantly. He yawned and allowed himself to lean more heavily against Hugh, and the Aussie hugged him in return. For the longest moment he watched the fire eating away at the logs… and that was the last thing he remembered.

He woke up on the sofa the next morning, covered up to his chin. A hot cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin were waiting for him on the table. The sound of running water came from upstairs.

It was all very sweet, but his only urgent thought was _where did Hugh spend the night?!_

Did he leave him, conveniently sleeping on the sofa, so that he could sneak out again? Suddenly miserable, he dragged himself upstairs to get ready for work.

“Jimmy?” came a sudden, soft laughter from behind and he turned;

Hugh was standing there in nothing but a towel around his waist, his muscular body wet and glistening, and his spiky hair dripping water on the carpet. His bright hazel eyes sparkled when he laughed, and James felt a strong pang of jealousy and admiration; Hugh Jackman was perfect… and so very out of reach.

He gritted his teeth in dismay; they were married! By right he should be able to walk over, kneel before his husband, remove the towel then kiss and lick the man into hardness… for a brief crazy moment he half considered doing just that… but he imagined Hugh’s horrified expression and cringed.

Besides, even if Hugh accepted his advances, even if James could get him rock hard… He had no idea what to do with another man’s dick—he would make a complete fool out of himself if he tried hitting on his co-star. So instead he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s Friday.” Hugh grinned, looking even more perfect somehow.

“Um… yeah?” what was he missing?

“The library is closed on Fridays, silly Billy—you know that. Today you get to relax at home while I get to work my ass off,” Hugh’s grin grew even wider, “I just need you to buy sweets for tonight at the Wayward General Mercantile, can you do that?”

“…S-sure.” James wasn’t thinking straight, Hugh was approaching him, half naked and wet—and his breath hitched in his throat.

“Thank you,” Hugh smiled lovingly as he gently raised James’s chin and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, his hair wetting the younger man’s forehead and his warm, soapy smell making his head spin.

Before James could attempt to deepen the kiss, Hugh pulled back and moved to the bed where his clothes were neatly laid out. He turned his back on the younger man in order to get dressed,

 _Oh, man…_ James had already seen Hugh’s backside, as did anyone who watched the X-Men films, but as the Australian dropped the towel to the floor the young actor had to excuse himself to hide his sudden, demanding erection.

“I’m gonna hit the shower,”

“Okay babe, then I’ll see you later today when I pick you up, be ready by half seven.”

“’kay,” James muttered while wondering if Hugh ever let anyone top him before, and also—why the hell did he care.

He hated the word ‘babe’, and yet nothing warmed his heart like having Hugh call him that—even if it was just a pretend for the red dots of light that recorded everything they did at home.

Lost in thoughts, he made his way towards the _Wayward General Mercantile_ , not expecting the waitress at the café to acknowledge him this time around… and he was right. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor she was sweeping, but he still managed to catch the naked fear in them. Guess people didn’t want to be associated with potential law breakers round here… not that he could blame her.

 _Think of the sweets,_ he rebuked himself.

After the events of the previous day he decided that he needed a break from it all—even if it meant pretending that this was his life and everything was normal…

…just like the rest of the cowardly townsfolks.

James sighed heavily, he felt like he aged years since he gotten here. He was tired both mentally and physically, he deserved some reprieve, right? Just for the weekend? It didn’t mean that he was conforming or anything…

 _Enough._ He sternly told himself as he reached his destination.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and pushed the door open,

“Welcome to the _Wayward General Mercantile,_ how can I help?” A beautiful redhead whose name tag read _Kate_ greeted him, bringing him back to the present.

“Oh, hey. Do you have any chocolate gift boxes?”

“Sure thing gorgeous,” she winked and turned to the shelves, but she didn’t look flirtatious, she looked scared.

“Are you alright?” he asked as she set the chocolates down on the counter, although he assumed he already knew the answer; she wanted nothing to do with him, just like the rest.

Her only reply was a quick nod—so small it was almost nonexistent, “Should I put it on Mr. Jackman’s tab?” she asked instead, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Yeah… thanks.” How did she know who he was? Did they pass his picture around telling people _this is Hugh Jackman’s new husband, act normal?_

 _Doesn’t matter, this is your weekend off!_ _Go home, relax, then go out for dinner and see for yourself if there’s anything going on between Michael and Hugh._

“Mr. Marsden?” She called once he reached for the door and he turned,

“Yeah?”

“We all have great hopes for you. I trust Nurse Pam, I’m certain that the rumors are false.”

“Um… thanks.”

What did she mean by great hopes? The lucky husband Hugh wouldn’t reject?

 _…I don’t care. I’m on a break._ He insisted, then exit the store.

James wasn’t sure what to expect when they rang the doorbell. All he knew was that he was very much on edge.

He spent the whole morning in bed before going to the mercantile, then, trying to distract himself without the luxuries of TV or newspapers, had spent the afternoon attending to the garden. The strawberries really did blossom, and he removed all of the dead leaves and added compost to the soil, suppressing his rebellious thoughts about how he felt in his eighties right then, and why wasn’t he trying to find out more about Hugh’s first husband instead.

_All in good time, this is my weekend off._

When Hugh arrived to pick him up, James was somewhat relieved to see that the Australian wasn’t dressing up for the occasion, deciding it was a good sign that the other man didn’t feel the need to dress to impress. Hugh quickly changed his suit for a dark blue jeans and a bottomed black shirt.

He looked drop dead gorgeous nevertheless, and ugly envy began gnawing at James’s heart; he didn’t want to share Hugh with Michael, not even for dinner.

_Well that’s too bad because they were probably fucking while you were napping on the sofa by yourself._

Hugh rang again, bringing him back to the present, and James almost asked him to turn back and head home, but just then the door opened,

“Hugh! Jimmy!” McAvoy was smiling from ear to ear, “Come in!”

And James’s concerns about becoming jealous immediately came true, just not in the way he expected…


	7. W.P.F.D

 

McAvoy and Fassbender’s Wayward Pines home wasn’t as pampering and luxurious as James and Hugh’s.

They didn’t have soft carpets and a big fireplace, or a well-attended garden, but it was homey in ways James could only dream of.

Pictures of the pair were hung in different spots in the living room, a grey furry cat was curled up on the sofa sound asleep, and the kitchen island was still covered in flour and ladened with dirty dishes. Two empty wine glasses stood by a dirty rolling pin, suggesting that the two men had spent the afternoon happily cooking together. James tried to discretely examine the now empty glasses, but McAvoy saw right through him;

“Orange juice. People underestimate the natural buzz fruit juices provide.”

Did he mean to sound so cynical? James didn’t know him well enough to tell… but there was definitely a rebel in McAvoy, he proved as much yesterday in the library when he chose to warn him regardless of the considerable risk.

For a moment James thought that he could smell vodka as well as oranges… but when he tried to hone in on the scent it was gone.

 “Can I get you anything to drink? Michael is showering, he arrived late from work.”

“I’m good thanks, mind if I use the men’s room?” Hugh asked and James felt his chest tighten.

“But of course, I will put your husband to good use in the meantime! C’mon Jimmy, help me carry these bottles outside? We’re eating on the patio tonight.”

“Sure,” James casually picked up the bottles but his heart was beating fast and his hands were sweaty; he couldn’t take his eyes off of Hugh’s back until the man disappeared.

Was Hugh going to see Michael?

Damn these bottles, he much preferred staying in the kitchen where he could listen in… but reluctant, he carried them to the garden instead.

The patio was just as welcoming as the rest of the house. The table was set in the middle of the outdoor deck, which was enclosed by clear glass walls overlooking the lawn. Colorful paper lanterns and lit candles gave the patio a warm yellow glow, and for a minute it was easy to forget that he was trapped in Wayward Pines… until he saw the tiny red dot above the doorframe.

So much for asking McAvoy if he thought something was happening between the two men…

Speaking of the devil.

Hugh and Michael arrived together, looking as comfortable around one another as only two old, intimate friends could be. A matching smile graced their faces, the kind that lingered after a good laugh, and it made an invisible fist crush James’s heart.

“Hey Jimmy,” the good looking Irish man greeted with a friendly nod but all James had managed was a stiff ‘hey’. He wanted to leave the three men where they stood and go home.

That was when he noticed Michael’s sweatshirt. It read _Wayward Pines Fire Department._

“You’re a fireman?” the words left James’s mouth on their own accord. But of course. Even in this alternative… life or whatever this was, James was cast in a supporting role as a librarian, while men like Fassbender got to play a leading part.

Bet he was going to lose the girl, too…

His eyes drifted to Hugh’s handsome face and his chest tightened in response.

“Jimmy’s a little confused since the accident,” the Australian began apologizing, but Michael cut him short by placing a hand on his shoulder—making James see red,

“That’s alright, yeah I’m a fireman. Someone ought to be with all of these pines surrounding us.”

“Right…” James could almost taste his jealousy, bitter dryness at the back of his throat. At least the other man removed his hand from his husband’s shoulder quickly.

“So you guys are a fireman and a librarian?”

“What can we say?” McAvoy moved into Michael’s arms, and the taller man slipped his hands into his husband’s pockets, cupping his ass through his jeans, “We’re writing a porn,” and smiling, they kissed.

Only it wasn’t a brief, platonic kiss. It was a loving, lingering one, followed by a couple of teasing pecks until they parted. Hugh never kissed him like that… the two men were an actual couple.

It made him even angrier—Michael seemed to be enjoying both worlds.

James hardly spoke for the rest of the evening. He felt exhausted and heartbroken. So much for taking a weekend off… By right he shouldn’t even be here! It was Friday night, he was supposed to walk his dog, shower, get dressed, grab a bite with his L.A friends and see where the night took them.

The three men were laughing and the sound distracted him, halting his self-pities. He tried paying attention, but he learned that if one couldn’t speak of the past and the present was fake, the main conversation topics were gardening and food—and he was bored out of his mind.

If he got it right, McAvoy and Michael were telling them about their first attempt at homemade pizza, and not paying too much attention to what they said, James had to admit that they looked good together; after they ate the party moved to the living room, and the pair was now sitting on the sofa opposite theirs, holding hands and laughing while they reminisced. They kept on arguing over tedious details and whose fault the burnt pizza was, stopping each time to exchange mischievous, challenging glances. It was so obvious that they were going to screw the minute they were left alone, that James wondered if the polite thing to do was to leave… But Hugh seemed happy enough to stay, laugh lines wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he paid close attention to their tale.

Did he not notice that his own partner was having a miserable time? Or maybe his ‘enjoyment’ was all part of the Wayward act?

Or worse.

Maybe he just enjoyed Michael’s company too damn much to leave?

But Michael was obviously wrapped up in his man… the pair was a negative mirror image of themselves; Fassbender and McAvoy were all over each other, thighs touching, arms around shoulders, meaningful glances and heartily laughs.

Hugh and him on the other hand… an outsider could never gather that they were a married couple. They sat far apart, the Australian’s undivided attention turned to their hosts while James was staring blankly at his feet.

“Jimmy? You alright?” the Australian finally acknowledged him, and unprepared, James blinked, not sure what to say.

The room fell very quiet.

“…just a headache. I think I might be coming down with something.”

“Yeah?” Hugh pressed a flat palm to his forehead, “You’re not hot… do you want to head home? Get some rest?”

“Would you mind terribly?” James asked their hosts, unable to meet Michael’s eyes.

“Of course not! You do look pale… we can continue this some other time!”

“Thank you.”

Funny. The worse his chances seemed, the more James wanted his co-star.

They were walking home, Hugh’s arm around his waist the way they always walked in public, and all James could think of were admittedly lame pickup lines.

True, it looked like Hugh and Michael were having an affair, but maybe Hugh wouldn’t mind fooling around with him, too…? At least until James won him over. Wasn’t that what Kate and Megan meant? That his job here was to help maintain order by getting Hugh to fall for him?

…Maybe this was some sort of a social experiment? Or a reality show? Could they do that without their permission?

 _Jesus, Marsden,_ he briefly shook his head, as if trying to clear it, _it doesn’t matter right now. Lives are at stake here. Your life..._

“Feeling any better?” Hugh’s arm around his waist felt like the only thing anchoring him to what’s real, to here and now.

“Yeah, thanks.”

 _You either swim or you drown,_ Hugh told him earlier, and James wondered if maybe all he really needed in life was what McAvoy and Fassbender had—a home sweet home and a lover to share it with.

He sighed.

He didn’t want to go there, but… well, he had been struggling with all his might to get back to Los Angeles… yet what really awaited him there? Different forms of sedatives and random one night stands? Fame seekers trying to label him their boyfriend?

Was the truth really worth fighting for if he could be happy here… in… _whatever_ this was? For a short while, at least? Until he reunited with his family?

And who’s to say what’s ‘real’, anyway? If the people of Wayward Pines defined this town as their home—what made it any less worthy than wherever the hell they actually came from?

_What’s next Jimmy? Theories about blue and red pills? You’re stalling, talk to him!_

But he looked at Hugh, and God, he was _perfect_ … tall, calm and gorgeous… so easy going, so comfortable in his own skin… what did James have to offer the Australian mega star? A neurotic, inexperienced mess?

_‘Hey Hugh, I really want you, but I’m not sure I’m into anal… or oral… or men’?_

_As if Marsden,_ he mocked himself, _you’ll give him everything in a heartbeat and you know it. This is about you not wanting to hear it, this is your version of Schrödinger's cat; as long as you don’t ask—Hugh is both head-over-heels and completely indifferent to you._

And hanging his head in defeat, James followed Hugh home.

They left a window cracked open and James woke before dawn to the sound of rain. The outer world was composed of billowing orange fog, colored by the street lights.

 _—Did Hugh go to see Michael?!_ His half-awakened mind suddenly demanded and he turned his attention to his husband’s side of the bed;

James was lying on his stomach, and beside him Hugh was lying on his back. The Australian’s left arm rested between them and summoning enough courage James interlaced his fingers with the sleeping man’s, their wedding bands meeting with a soft clink.

He held his breath but Hugh didn’t wake, and enjoying the rather innocent touch, James relaxed back into sleep.

At the same time a pulsing demand began below his waist.

It was going to be a long weekend…


	8. The most resilient parasite

 

“Hey Jimmy!” McAvoy greeted, well into the habit of sneaking up on him.

“…hey.” James nearly dropped the book he was holding, “I’m half considering putting a bell on you.”

“Kinky!” McAvoy laughed. It was a happy, carefree laughter; the kind only a man who was in love and enjoyed regular sex was capable of, and James gritted his teeth in dismay. He spent the entire weekend alongside Hugh, cooking, chatting, reading, and taking walks together, and by Monday James could redefine the term blue balls. He wanted the Australian so damn much that he felt like he was in heat, but his fears kept getting the best of him and he dared not approach his so called husband. Jerking off was also out of the question with all of the cameras around, and James was feeling extra jumpy and irritable.   

“Look, don’t freak out,” McAvoy brought him back to the present, “but Megan was here looking for you this morning. Told her you were starting late—a minute earlier and you would have bumped into her on your way in.”

 _“Oh?”_ James could feel himself paling; was his time up? Were they replacing him?

“Why don’t you just…” the Scot gave him a long, pensive look while searching for the right words, “get it out of the way? Like, just do it?”

“…do?”

“—It.” McAvoy clarified by suggestively moving his hips.

“I’m…” he could feel himself reddening with both embarrassment and anger. Why did everyone just assume that he was the problematic one? For all of their good intentions, they were all just rubbing salt! Especially him! It was McAvoy’s man who was keeping Hugh away from him.

 _“You make it sound like it’s only up to me.”_ James risked whispering, frustrated and horny and sad.

“It is… he’d fuck you if you let him. Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not. It’s not like that.”

“You know what? I got an idea, come with me!”

And before James could ask, McAvoy was already locking up and leaving _their ‘will return shortly’_ sign.

“Okay, sit down!”

“You sure we can be here?” James looked around nervously. The last time he entered the woods got him in a lot of trouble.

“Should be alright for just a couple of minutes. Worst case scenario—they’d think we’re having an affair!” The Scot smiled his perfect smile, but James couldn’t smile back. Now that they could candidly talk, the burning question was riding the tip of his tongue…

But if Hugh and Michael were having an affair and McAvoy was unaware… then James might be ruining a happy home by interfering.

“Come on, Jimmy, quit wasting time! We can only stay here for a couple more minutes!”

“Okay…” James sat on the grass near the Scot and leaned against the massive pine tree. The ground was cold and wet, but they were both wearing dark pants that weren’t likely to stain.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I remember having my share of doubts after the accident, but then I realized I can either make love… or die. Easy choice isn’t it?”

“Does everyone arrive here after an accident they can’t remember? And what happened to Hugh’s first husband? It didn’t work out so they had him killed?”

“It doesn’t matter Marsden—forget all about it. I only told you that people get replaced so that you can appreciate the risks.” McAvoy paused, eyes searching his face before he sighed heavily.

“Look, I had a hard time accepting this is my life now, but I learned that the less I think about it, the easier life in Wayward Pines gets. Makes sense?”

Sad, James nodded. It made sense.

“Good. As far as making love to a man goes… the idea took some getting used to, but I believe we are all bisexual at core… and I’m happy now. I don’t see a reason you can’t be, and I want to help you get there—but I need you to trust me. I want you to try what got me through the nervousness, okay?”

“Namely…?” Why did McAvoy care so damn much? Was it possible that he knew all about Hugh and Michael and was hoping that if they finally hook up the affair would come to an end?

“Just close your eyes, let my voice guide you… try to imagine and try to relax. Don’t be embarrassed if what I say arouses you… that’s kind of the point.”   

“Like guided imagination? I don’t know, man.”

“Jimmy! Just give it a shot, you got nothing to lose.”

“I…” but he had nothing, McAvoy was right. “…I guess.” And reluctant, James closed his eyes.

Eyes closed, he immediately began feeling a little funny, all of his senses hyper-aroused. He needed some sort of release or he would lose it, and if the Scot could really help…

“Okay Jimmy. Let’s see what it would be like if you let Hugh have his way with you,”

“I don’t think he’s all that interested—”

“Keep your eyes closed! And no way in hell Hugh isn’t interested, if anything he’s seeing you’re having such a miserable time here, and he’s being a gentleman… you’re a real lucky guy Jimmy. You were _given_ to him, and round here he could have taken you by force whenever and however he wanted to—the law would have been on his side. If anything, he is under a lot of pressure to forcefully bed you so that you know your place in society, and if he wasn’t so damn important to them—they would have punished him by now for refusing.”

“Who are they?”

“Doesn’t matter right now, concentrate. Now let’s say you got home from work, showered, prepared dinner, and waited for your husband to join you. Calm down Jimmy, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath… exhale… now work with me. Can you picture it? You are waiting in the living room, Hugh is opening the front door? You get up to greet him, kiss him on the lips, but when you try to pull back he holds you in place letting you know that he came back horny, that you are about to get thoroughly fucked— Hey, easy. Keep your eyes closed. You get used to anal faster than you think. It’s a different kind of orgasm; far more intense.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh. You should leave your male ego outside the bedroom if you want your life here to be remotely happy, and just accept that you’re going to bottom for him… over and over and however he wants you to. Hey! Eyes closed! Now where were we? So Hugh, he moves in, shoves you against the wall and kisses you hard… you part your lips, let his tongue mimic what he’s about to do to you, and just suck on it passionately—there’s nothing you’d deny this man. His hands are inside your pants, inside your briefs, he’s cupping and massaging your buttocks, parting them, and you moan, letting him know you’re going to take it so good,”

James blinked his eyes open, blinded by the forest’s natural light. This was getting too intimate, and his arousal was both embarrassing and undeniable.

“Close them. Let me guide you through this, then go home and react it. Now Jimmy, before they come looking for us.”

“I…”

“Now, Jimmy.”

…and eventually James complied, mainly because his imaginary make out session with Hugh was the best time he had since he gotten there.

“That’s it. You let him tease you and you let him undress you before he applies pressure on your shoulders, guiding you to your knees. You kneel before him and begin undoing his belt and his jeans, quickly, you want him to know that you are eager to please him. You drag down his briefs and for a moment taken aback by his size, going down on a guy isn’t a second nature just yet, but then you remember how much you love him and how much you owe him, so you let him take firm hold of your head.”

“James…”

“Quiet Jimmy. Imagine it as vividly as you possibly can. Hugh is now pressing the hot tip of his dick against your lips and you part them… let him push in… suck the head of his cock like a god damned lollipop; so good and wet… now open up wider, let him press deeper… and just relax, cradle him with your tongue, be careful not to graze him with your teeth… now breathe through your nose, let him set the pace… he knows you’re inexperienced, and he’s being so careful, he cares about you so much… he could have fucked your mouth senseless; but he’s not, he’s letting you get used to it. He’s pulling out, guiding you to his balls… stick out your tongue… lick them… that’s it, all over… slower… now faster… hear him moan, let it guide you… you’re doing so good, you’re making him so hard… his hard on is going to be your reward… now unclench, start relaxing for him already, right here on your knees… get used to the idea you’re about to get fucked, get used to the idea of submitting your body to this man, trusting him completely—”

 _“James,”_ the young actor was breathing hard, painfully aroused, but he kept his eyes closed even while he pleaded.

“Easy Marsden. Now imagine you’re in the bedroom, Hugh is lying naked on his back and you are sitting on his groin, riding his cock… hey. Eyes closed… it’s okay that you’re hard, it’s okay that you get turned on by all this; they chose you for a reason.”

 _Who are they?_ James mind insisted even with most of his blood frustratingly leaving his brain in favor of his groin, but McAvoy’s voice distracted him,

“Feel those big hands parting your cheeks so that you can take it deep up your ass… you two make such a tight fit, it’s almost too much and yet somehow not enough… and you’re spreading so wide for him—you’re all his, Jimmy. You’re arching back, hands gripping his firm thighs to stabilize yourself and you clench hard—it feels so good… then you lean in for a messy kiss… you’re so open, so submissive… but there’s nothing wrong about that. You love Hugh, it only makes sense you’d do that for him.”

“Stop.” James opened his eyes. His cock was throbbing painfully, unpleasantly. Too nicotine and sex deprived, the young actor felt almost sick.

“Pushed you too far? I’d say I’m sorry but that’s kind of the point. Go home and take your sexual frustration out on your husband.”

“You just don’t understand—I will lose him…” Hugh would turn him down, and then it’s more than his friendship James would lose.

“No you won’t. Consummating your marriage will strengthen the bond you two share. He cares about you, Jimmy… more than you know. He went out of his way to make sure you’re safe here, he put his own life on the line for you. It’s the least you can do, he’s hurting too, you know.”

“No, I don’t know—”

“C’mon, we’re overstaying our welcome.” Ignoring him, McAvoy got up and offered him a hand.

Frustrated, James took it.


	9. It takes two

 

When James entered the car, his heart was beating like a high-schooler who was meeting his crush down the hall.

“Hello, mate,” Hugh greeted and kissed his temple, “how was your day?”

“It was good.” James answered, distracted. His face tingled where Hugh touched him, McAvoy’s words echoed in his brain and messed with his libido. He wanted the gorgeous Australian to make love to him there and then, in the back of the car which was parked in front of the library.

“Brilliant!” Hugh smiled brightly upon hearing his day was successful, and _god_ , was he always this good looking?

Of course he was. Right from day one, when James saw him flirt with John and tried understanding what Hugh saw in the vain producer… and why it wasn’t him the Australian was drawn to.

It hurt for a while, but eventually James got used to it, moved on with his life. At least until they began shooting X-2 and his fascination was back with a vengeance—he couldn’t stop thinking about Hugh, he couldn’t deny that his admiration was only intensifying whenever the Aussie was around… then he got divorced and felt so lost and scared… all he wanted was Hugh’s support, but too proud to ask he found himself clinging to his L.A. squad, and only visiting Hugh in New York whenever the gang went up there, sad that it was as good as it got.

 _Jeez…_ he had feelings for Jackman since forever, it seemed… he just never stopped to acknowledge them, too scared to consider what it all meant...

 _They chose you for a reason_ , he was reminded of McAvoy’s words…

He watched Hugh drive, watched the talented, handsome, caring, generous, happy-go-lucky Australian—the man who had kept him at arm’s length both physically and emotionally since he’d gotten here, and at the same time vouched that he’d keep him in line, thereby risking his own life to protect him… and wondered if it meant anything at all? Did Hugh _really_ care?

He sure hoped so. James was so lonely since the divorce… he needed Hugh even more now that he was stranded in Wayward Pines…

It hurt.

His renewed feelings for Hugh physically hurt in his chest, an invisible fist was crushing his heart, bringing tears to his eyes whenever he thought of the Aussie seeing Michael... and he was horny—unpleasantly and sickly aroused more often than not, and completely unable to blow off some steam…

If he didn’t act on his feelings soon he’d lose it… or worse, he’d get ‘replaced’…

Then on the spur of the moment, closing his eyes and not giving himself a chance to chicken out, he forced himself to say-

_“—Stop the car,”_

“Jimmy?” Hugh pulled over, eyes wide with concern.

“I… It’s just a spell of motion sickness.” _Don’t you dare backing off, Marsden,_ “Can we step outside for a bit?”

“Sure thing, come here,” Hugh rushed out of the car to open the door for him, the concern in his eyes so sincere that James was falling harder and harder for him by the minute.

“Any better?” Hugh asked, tall and gorgeous and caring, then added “You still look a little pale…”

 _That’s because I’m so nervous I feel ill,_ “Yeah. Slightly better. The fresh air is doing me good.”

With his heart beating so forcefully it was almost nauseating, James laced his good hand’s fingers with Hugh’s, “Can we take a quick detour?”

“I… I guess.”

It was the first time James saw the Aussie hesitant about something since he gotten here, and it unnerved him, but holding his husband’s hand he forced himself to start walking, eyes glued to the ground, finding that looking at Hugh’s handsome, clean shaved face, perfect hair ruffled by the breeze, was making him even more nervous. He felt unworthy; he spent the last four years accepting shitty roles to pay for alcohol and drugs while Hugh was shooting Oscar nominated movies… but that was in the past… and round here the past didn’t matter, right?...

Still, he couldn’t meet Hugh’s eyes as he led him to the woods, keeping his strides small and hesitant, trying to make their course look coincidental. Normally he’d just hit on the guy, but if rejection meant death then he needed to do it right and talk to him— _really_ talk to him, away from prying eyes and sharp ears.

Holding Hugh's big, warm hand, he brought them to a stop by a thick outgrowth of trees.

Tiny cameras shone in red from the lampposts around them, and summoning every last bit of his courage, James moved into Hugh’s personal space and wrapped his arms around the Australian’s neck.

To his immense relief Hugh returned the gesture, built arms circling his slim waist before he moved in to whisper in his ear,

_“What gives, Marsden?”_

_“Can we go into the woods? Just for a bit?”_ James whispered back, his fingers sneaking into Hugh’s soft, perfect hair, caressing the back of his head, and yeah—he was copping a feel; that way he’d always have here and now if nothing else.

“…for a bit.” Hugh eventually agreed, but his tone of voice made it clear that he didn’t like it.

Fine.

‘A bit’ was all James needed in order to confess his feelings and get rejected, anyway.

“Well?” Hugh asked once they were out of hearing range, arms crossed over his broad chest defensively.

It made it impossible for James to bring it up. He couldn’t remember being this nervous in his life, not even when Bear Grylls tied him to a tree and sent him down a cliff to meet his potential doom. Of course he was very nervous back then, but now even looking at Hugh was making him feel sick with dread… sometimes rejection could be as scary as death, it seemed.

“Do you really like it here?” he found himself asking, too scared to bring up his feelings for Hugh just yet, but he realized even while saying the words that it was a terrible ice-breaker.

“I’d rather not say—and that’s all the answer you need. Now tell me, why do you keep insisting on playing with fire?” The hazel eyes hardened and it hurt.

“I don’t. It’s not what I really wanted to say,” but Hugh only grimaced in disbelief, and before he knew it James forced himself to go on, “I… I need to know the truth… are you and Fassbender having an affair?”

 _Coward._ That wasn’t it either, and now James was fighting the urge to cover his ears—he didn’t want to hear it.

“Jimmy…” Hugh’s shoulders sagged and his cold glare soften as he begged with his eyes,

“Are you?!” Anger replaced James’s fear—how dared Hugh lie to him about their happy marriage, leading him on while his heart was elsewhere?!

“Does it matter?”

“…Oh my God, you are…” irrational tears blurred James’s vision.

How was he supposed to stay here? Lead a miserable life as a librarian and watch the man he loved and supposedly married screwing someone else?

“Hey… I didn’t say that.” Hugh finally uncrossed his arms and took hold of the younger man’s shoulders, “What is this about, James?”

“I just…” _come on, you coward, come on,_ “I dunno, I don’t like thinking that you’re stuck with me, that’s all.”

_Coward._

“Of course I don’t feel that way, I love spending time with you.”

James grimaced at the lukewarm statement, “Yeah… just not enough to actually _be_ with me.”

Hugh froze solid, then his bright eyes narrowed. He licked his lips in a quick, nervous flick of the tongue, before asking; “What… what is it exactly you’re asking for here, Jimmy?”

But, heart thundering in his chest, James couldn’t meet Hugh’s eyes. He just shook his head _no,_ “Never mind.” If he needed to spell it out for the man—then clearly he’d been barking up the wrong tree.

“Hey,” Hugh raised his chin until their eyes met, “Do you want us to be intimate that way?”

“I… I just thought that with Nurse Pam insisting, and how this is all about pleasing the Wayward Gods then… you know… that we would have done it by now.” _I’ve also been thinking you’re bisexual from day one, and don’t find me attractive enough to hit on,_ James added bitterly what he dared not say for the past fifteen years.

“That’s not what I asked.” The Aussie said, unwavering, “Do you _want_ us to?”

“I…” James couldn’t lie while the sincere hazel eyes held his own, “I think so, yeah.”

“Oh.” Hugh’s surprise was quickly gone, and still for a long moment only the grasshoppers could be heard. James could almost see the wheels in the Aussie’s head turning. Could almost taste his own dread while waiting to hear what Hugh had to say.

“You done anything like this before?” Hugh eventually asked, so calm, sincere and good looking—that James had to look away while admitting,

“…no. But…” He licked his dry lips and forced himself to meet Hugh’s gaze once more, “But do _you_ want to at all?”

Hugh didn’t answer him, not with words. He simply moved in for a kiss, brushing James’s lips ever so softly with his own, before pressing a kiss to his upper lip… his lower lip… he tilted his head and James parted his lips, allowing the older man to deepen the kiss, and _yeah…_

He moaned and wrapped his arms around Hugh’s neck, kissing him back so eagerly it surprised even him.

They threw the front door wide open and stumbled in, kissing messily, hungrily. Hugh pushed James’s coat off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor and pulled off his shirt, only breaking the kiss to tug it over the younger man’s head. James wrapped his arms and legs around Hugh and the older man backed him up against the wall, slamming their bodies together, his pelvis moving between James’s legs suggestively while his tongue plundered his mouth, their hard-ons rubbing together through their clothes. That was when the first twinge of fear gnawed at James’s heart and he tore his mouth away.

“Slower,” he panted, “I want to, just… just go slower, kay?” It was as close as he could get to admitting he was nervous.

Faces inches apart, both breathing heavily, Hugh read his expression and it sobered him up; the dark desire in his eyes was replaced with concern and he gave James a reassuring nod.

“Course it is, darling,” he lowered him to the floor, took his hand, and led him to the bedroom.

Hugh stopped by the edge of the bed and let go of his hand.

He began undressing then, ridiculously fit, muscles rippling as he removed his trousers and shirt until he stood before him in a pair of grey cotton briefs.

“...Jimmy?”

James knew he was gawking, but after being denied for so long he couldn’t look away…

And the hunger in his eyes must have showed because Hugh was smiling at him fondly… seductively.

“You like what you see?”

Well aware of his good looks, Hugh just stood there, and James, who knew that soon he’d be able to touch the gorgeous man freely, was devouring the built body with his eyes.

Try as he may his gaze kept wandering south… even through his briefs Hugh looked big, bigger than James… but McAvoy had prepared him to that—told him that they would make a tight fit…

“…yeah.” James gulped, equally turned on and nervous.

His nervousness was short lived; Hugh moved in until they were kissing again, and having never been with a man all of his senses were attacked all at once—

Hugh smelled of soap, warm and clean. He was broader, taller—James had to crane his neck just to return his hungry kisses. He was hotter, too, the well-built body radiating heat that James desperately tried to soak, pressing in close. But mostly, the dynamic was different than with a woman… Hugh was in charge, dominating him hungrily, shucking off his jeans between kisses… while it was James who needed to relax into it and surrender his body... it was both alarming and arousing.

Hugh was guiding him towards the bed, letting go of his lips to pull up the covers.

James got in and the older man followed suit, then covered them up to their necks and claimed James’s lips once more.

At the same time he sent hands to his slim waist and began dragging his boxer shorts down,

 _Wait…_ James begged in his head, even while sucking on Hugh’s tongue, impossibly aroused. He wanted to take it slow, maybe stop completely and pick up where they left some other day… but it was pointless, he knew. No matter when they’d do it, he’d still be nervous about having intercourse with a guy… might as well get it out of the way…

Hugh made quick work of getting naked as well, and lying on his back he guided James to move on top of him… to spread his legs and bring their erections into contact.

 _“Hugh…”_ James moaned, surprised by how much rubbing against the other man turned him on. He looked down; Hugh was drop-dead gorgeous when he was aroused… his hazel eyes were narrowed and his pupils dilated, an healthy blush colored his cheeks and his thin, beautiful lips were parted ever so slightly... James was moving in for a kiss before he knew it.

 _You’re playing into their hands…_ an inner voice suddenly warned, _just look around you, they placed you in a perfect love nest, a romantic isolated location with the man of your dreams, and told you that in order to survive you must give in to temptation… isn’t that a bit too convenient? Why are you so sure that it’s not *Hugh* who’s been chosen for a reason?_

 _Shut up._ James forced the nagging thoughts to the back of his head—this was as happy as he’d been in four long, lonely years.

So instead of paying attention to the warnings going off in his head, he kept making out with Hugh for a couple more minutes, until the Aussie gently pushed him off, and guided him to lie on his back. He reached across his body to search the nightstand… the bottom drawer that James dreaded so much on the day he arrived here. Now, hearing Hugh uncapping a tube made desire mix with his fear.

Hugh pulled back from the drawer, but before James could see what he was doing the man kissed him, forcing him to close his eyes.

“Bend your knees for me,” the Australian pulled back and guided, but James’s gaze uncontrollably shifted to the tiny camera above the window frame.   

“Just stay under the covers,” Hugh said, and James found himself complying—they saw him 24/7 anyway… he should get used to having his love life monitor as well. _Same as everyone else’s round here._ He reassured himself, while allowing the other man to gently guide his legs apart.

Carefully reading his expression Hugh began preparing him with his fingers, and James was as embarrassed as he was aroused. He kept reminding himself of McAvoy’s words; leave your male ego out of it. Leave the guy from Oklahoma, the one who resented being touched down there, far behind and just relax for Hugh, let him take care of you so that it wouldn’t hurt... then Hugh bent down to kiss him and James nearly forgot about the invading fingers…

When he was done, Hugh moved in between his legs and pulled him closer, until James was straddling the other man’s groin. “The trick is to relax; if you overthink it your body is going to resist me. Try and focus on what feels good and ignore the discomfort, first times are bound to hurt a little. Okay?”

“…kay.”

“Don’t look so worried Jimmy, I’ll be gentle—you’re going to have it good. Just show me what you like.”

“I like you…” James replied before he knew it, the feelings he’d been suppressing for years surfacing uncontrollably when he looked into the warm hazel eyes.

“Me?” Hugh chuckled, but then nodded and bent down to kiss his lips. “I like you too, Jimmy, very much,” and he covered his face with gentle kisses while guiding his sinewy legs over his broad shoulders.

“Do we have… like, you know… protection?” James felt like an idiot for asking, but the only time he drunkenly skipped it had led to quite a mess.

“Did you let Nurse Pam draw blood at the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’re good.” Hugh said and James felt an unexpected added thrill—although he’d die before admitting how much the idea of not using rubber turned him on.

“Now come here… That’s it…” Hugh leaned in, folding his body in half, “Mm… That’s real good Jimmy… spread wider, relax for me…”

Then Hugh was moving, pressing into him, but in spite all of his fears—the man took it so slow it didn’t hurt one bit. Hugh was big and there was some discomfort, but his co-star was being as gentle and caring as anyone who’d known him might expect. He was penetrating him in measured, careful thrusts, in no hurry to claim his body. He seemed far more interested in kissing him, in running his big, hot palms all over James’s body, and James felt like he was melting; he never felt this loved in his life. The room temperature was pleasant too, cool but not too cold, making pressing against Hugh’s hot body ever so pleasant. Making the light cotton covers brush his skin, dry and warm. They were making love, but barely breaking sweat… the only wetness was between his legs, where Hugh was moving, in and out, deeper and deeper… hard and large and thick—but also slippery and hot and wet…

 _Oh, God…_ he’d never let any of the girls he dated touch him down there, and was always curious to know if it really was an erogenous zone… now he knew without doubt that his g spot was deep up his ass, and Hugh was rubbing it just right… a little more and he would climax…

_“Wait—”_

As good as it felt, being taken this way was damn intense… and God, Hugh was big… he just needed a moment…

“Easy, Marsden,” Hugh guided as took firm hold of his hips and dragged him impossibly close, hard plains pressing against round buttocks, narrowing his world to utter vulnerability and raw need. “Nice and easy,” He leaned into James, covering his body until the younger man was trapped between the mattress and Hugh’s bigger and heavier frame.

_“…Hugh…”_

“Jimmy,” The Aussie moved in for a kiss; it was deep, slow and tender, “I got you, just relax for me, ‘kay?”  

“…Okay.” With his legs spread wide and his body pinned down by his man’s weight James felt a little slutty and completely helpless… and it turned him on in ways he didn’t expect. It made complying surprisingly easy.

Then, keeping him close, Hugh began moving his hips once more, ever so slowly until James began relaxing into it, his body learning to accept the new in and out sensations.  

“Come here,” Hugh guided James’s good hand to his groin, encouraging him to jerk off while getting fucked.

James had to throw his head back and part his lips to gulp in air fast enough; the added pleasure made his entire body tingle with an approaching orgasm.

_—ah_

Hugh cupped and parted his buttocks so that he could press in even deeper, and James was clenching hard around the invasion, each of Hugh’s final thrusts feeling like a mini orgasm—until James stroked his own cock just right and came so hard, fast and _deep—_ different to anything he ever felt—

 _“—Hugh!”_ he half shouted before his husband claimed his lips, forcing him to come quietly in an attempt to protect his privacy best he could under the circumstances.

It warmed James’s heart and he felt he was falling deeper and deeper in love with his man with every involuntary squeeze of Hugh’s cock as he ejaculated.

All along Hugh held impossibly still for him—touching him just right and making his climax last a short eternity.

He waited until James’ throes of pleasure seized, and only then continued to move, his thrusts turning deeper and faster the closer he got...

 _“Jimmy—”_ with a final, jarring thrust he buried himself deep up James’s ass and bit his lips to keep quiet as he came, holding James down until he was done emptying himself into his husband.

Weird…

He just had mind blowing sex for the first time in forever… and yet lying awake by Hugh’s side James felt dread instead of sweet afterglow… But why...?

On one hand, he loved Hugh so very much and felt no regret that they became lovers…

On the other—he just gave Nurse Pam and that bitch Megan exactly what they wanted, and it scared him for reasons he could not explain.

He closed his eyes and shifted closer to Hugh who was sound asleep, but unrelenting thoughts kept swirling in his head and before he knew it, it was dawn.


	10. Forest for the trees

_ _

 

 _There aren’t any birds in Wayward Pines_ , The thought occurred to James as he made his way to the library from where Hugh dropped him off, and his eyes uncontrollably searched the wall as he wondered if the damn thing also served as a scarecrow.

Even in the bright morning light the wall looked completely dark, and goosebumps covered his arms, the sudden chill standing in stark contrast to his otherwise good mood.

That morning they had breakfast in bed, then a hot shower together—at least until Hugh spun him around and, using the conditioner as lubricant, made love to him against the wet panels. His broad, built chest was wet and slippery against James’s back, and the Australian was nuzzling his neck throughout, wet kisses and gentle bites that set fire to James’s blood. Feeling braver he moved against his man, meeting the still careful thrusts, and this time he came without having to jerk off—just by finding the right angle and pace.

He felt like jello afterwards, and could barely answer when Hugh kept asking him if the more vigorous pace he was setting in order to get off was okay.

James teasingly clenched his ass after Hugh came, enjoying how it got a reaction out of him. He reached back and steadied Hugh’s waist when the other man tried pulling out, and indulging him, Hugh held still for another long minute, letting James experiment with the newfound sensations. He learned that he could make Hugh hiss and shudder just by clenching around his now sensitive dick… it made him feel in control and he loved it. He wondered if Hugh would be willing to lie on his back and let him ride his cock. He wondered when was a good time to bring it up…

“Jimmy!” McAvoy called from behind, derailing his train of thoughts by half running to catch up with him.

“Hey,” in spite of the sleepless night that he had, James was feeling more relaxed than he had in years and it must have showed,

“Oh my God…” McAvoy glowed, “You went ahead and did it!” his joy seemed genuine and James had to wonder if he was happy for them… or for himself.

“We… yeah.” There was no point in lying round here, he knew. _“Thanks for your help.”_ He added quickly, quietly. No matter what were his motives, McAvoy had helped him to secure his place in Wayward Pines—and thereby his wellbeing.

“Don’t mention it!” the Scot answered cheerfully and together they unlocked the library.

“Did you notice that there aren’t any birds in town? I’ve never seen any, or heard any chirps.”

McAvoy offered him a meaningless smile from over the pile of books he’s been carrying, letting him know that he just hit another taboo.

Fine, whatever.

The library was livelier today, filled with kids and adults who were scattered among the shelves and different rooms, reading and writing quietly. It made the place seem far less gloomy, and combined with the pleasant physical and emotional relief James felt—he found himself smiling back at the Scot, not caring about the damn birds as much anymore.

His thoughts kept drifting back to how good Hugh felt naked and wet against his body earlier that morning… what a great kisser and an attentive lover the Australian was… how good he smelled, soapy and clean… oh, God, he had to stop or he might embarrass himself in public…

And yet, when he was suddenly distracted from his erotic thoughts, he didn’t feel even the slightest touch of relief,

“Nurse Pam. What a… pleasure.” He nearly choked on the word, “How can I help?”

“Oh, but you already helped, Mr. Marsden—you’ve been a great help indeed.” She was smiling at him. A huge, winning smile, her black eyes full of mockery, “You know, I couldn’t help but overhear that you are interested in the local wildlife and I have to commend your natural… curiosity? Is that the word?” she cynically played coy, “Would you say that you’re a curious guy?”

“I… no. Not exceedingly, I don’t think.” James mumbled, wishing her away. “Should I stamp this book for you?” he reached for the book she was carrying—but just as he touched the cover her hand closed over his and she _pulled_ , forcing James to lean across the librarian desk. His eyes grew wide with alarm as she moved in to whisper in his ear;

_“You know that I lied to the good people of Wayward Pines just to save your skin, they would have reckoned you themselves, out in the streets in broad daylight—had they known the truth.”_

Pulse racing, James tried pulling back but her grip was unrelenting.

“I see the way you look at _The Wall_ and I want to assure you—there’s only _one_ way out of Wayward Pines;” and with her free hand she created a gun with a finger and thumb, pressed it to her temple… and squeezed the trigger.

“Now how about you stop asking so many questions and concentrate on riding your husband’s cock? Mm? Doesn’t it sound like a more pleasurable way to pass the time?” she intoned, and miserable and scared, James nodded.

She let go of the book then, and still holding it James nearly stumbled back. He looked down;

It was a copy of _The Replaced_ by Kim Derting.

With shaky hands, James stamped it and handed it to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“Are you okay, mate?”

Hugh asked, bringing him back to the present. They were sitting in front of the fireplace on top of the soft, white pelt rug, James’s head resting on Hugh’s shoulder.

A ball of cherries was set between them, already half empty, and James was staring at it with narrow, dark blue eyes.

He hadn’t seen any cherry trees in Wayward Pine, and yet they were available by the bucket in the Wayward General Mercantile, dark, sweet and juicy...

Someone was venturing out to fetch supplies, a way out did exist…

He wondered if he should ask Hugh to follow him to the woods once more so that they could plan their escape, but at the very same instant Nurse Pam’s dark eyes flashed in his mind’s eye and he gulped.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This feels good.” And still distracted he lifted his head to kiss Hugh’s cheek.

Hugh smiled a warm, genuine smile, then followed James’s lips with his own, coaxing the younger man to relax into a lingering French kiss.

Even while James caressed Hugh’s tongue and teeth—his eyes closed and his cock stiffening so immediately it was pathetic—he could still see Nurse Pam’s mocking expression as she suggested he’d ride his man’s cock instead of asking questions.

 _Damn her visit to the library today_ _!_

He hadn’t told McAvoy about the book, he figured that there was no point in alarming him, and now he was telling himself sternly, over and over, that he was about to have sex with Hugh Jackman in front of the fireplace—regardless of the cameras situated in the house, because he desired this man so damn much that he didn’t care if they were watching… and _not_ because he wanted to placate Nurse Pam.

They had cherry-flavored oral sex; James lying on his back on the rug, keeping his eyes on Hugh’s face while the Australian skillfully gave him head.

_“…Ah… Hugh…”_

His fingers dug into Hugh’s shoulders as he hissed and begged and moaned, completely ignoring the tiny red dot at the edge of his visual field.

Time went by incredibly fast considering that he was doing something that he hated, so far away from all of his family and friends.

Since there were no calendars in town, no cell-phones, no TV sets or newspaper stands, and hardly any clocks (the one hung in their living room was the only one he’d seen so far), and since keeping a journal was out of the question—James could only guesstimate that he’s been living in Wayward Pines for two weeks.

And yet, he hated to admit that he wasn’t entirely miserable. Having no access to the internet meant no Instagram second thoughts, no unflattering gossip blurbs, no judgmental paparazzi photos of him smoking after a marathon or meeting one of his female friends, making him look like a douchey womanizer, and having no phone access to the outer world (although the town’s inner lines were working just fine) meant no calls from his agent reminding him that he was unemployed for longer than what was considered legit in the city of Angels.

His main concern was his family, but even that became a minefield since the divorce and he was ashamed to admit that he needed a break even from the most beloved people in his life.

In the months prior to him waking up in Wayward Pines he often joked about his desire to become Amish for a while. Ironically, his wish was granted in the least expected kind of way, and yes, the simple life combined with regular, mind-blowing sex with a guy he admired, seemed to be just what the doctor prescribed; he was beginning to feel like his old self once more. The guy he’d been before the divorce… maybe even before he moved to L.A.

The guy who wasn’t constantly driven by his anxieties and bruised ego.

And to think it became possible in this hellhole, of all places…

He knew it sounded crazy, but he suspected that his bitter resentment was crumbling further and further whenever he surrendered his body to Hugh… yet he was completely unable to stop seeing him. He didn’t even want to try.

Some mornings, when he stood by the window in their bedroom, sipping on the fresh coffee that Hugh made him while the Aussie was showering, he’d look at the waking town and feel… well he felt like he almost loved it.

Like even though he didn’t justify killing under any circumstances, he could almost understand why the townsfolks supported reckonings; why they wanted to protect their new found happiness so damn much. It seemed that the cheesy moto was true… paradise was home.

Not that he didn’t intend to leave. He’d make his escape… eventually. Just not right away—not until he was done healing.


	11. No birds and no Monday blues

 

James had been in Wayward Pines for nearly a month when things took a turn for the worst, and indeed, the town proved to be bird-free.

 _No birds and no Monday blues…_ He mused as Hugh drove him to the library. And why should there be? Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday—it was all the same; enjoy a restful lie-in, then the rest of your care-free day.

That was the beauty of this town; once you accepted its rules—it was stress-free. No work related stress, no relationship related stress, and no finance related stress – as there was no money to be earned or spent. No paychecks and no bills.

Just mind blowing sex with a gorgeous, Australian mega star he'd been adoring for years.

"…Hugh?"

"Jimmy?"

"I… um, thanks for breakfast, that was um, really nice of you."

 _Coward!_ That wasn't what he wanted to say… but what if the feelings weren't mutual? What if having sex with a skinny geek from Oklahoma was just a way to pass the time for the Australian god?

"My pleasure Marsden, thank _you_ for the dessert!" And he winked, making James blush.

Over the weekend James finally summoned the nerve to ask Hugh for a new position in bed. _'Yeah?'_ Hugh chuckled seductively and moved in close, _'always suspected you got a bit of a power bottom in you, Jimmy,'_ and he licked James's ear, making the younger man's knees feel like rubber. They moved to the bedroom then, and James found that he liked using Hugh's cock to fuck himself with just as much as he suspected he would.

Hugh lied on his back and held completely still for him, while he clumsily learned the trick of riding a cock. The Australian's earnestness warmed James's heart; all Hugh did that day was to pull him down for melting kisses whenever he became obviously frustrated with trying to find the right angle and pace, and softly moan in order to wordlessly guide his inexperienced husband.

When the Aussie fell silent and his beautiful features twisted with the passionate throes of sex, James knew that he was no longer exaggerating it in order to encourage him, and kept moving up and down in growing speed until Hugh threw his head back and arched from the bed as he orgasmed.

The shock on his face when he came to was probably the best compliment Hugh could have paid him, _'You sure you haven't done it before?'_ He panted, and glowing, James captured his lips in a demanding kiss while guiding Hugh's hands to his own, still aching hard on.

Today after breakfast they tried the same position again, and now Hugh teased him by thanking him for the ‘dessert’...

It was easier this time around, and no longer concerned with the technical side of things, James managed to get off on Hugh's cock before making the gorgeous Australian climax.

 _'I could ride your dick forever,'_ James moaned earlier that morning, steadily moving up and down.

 _'—tempting, but I'm still going to want to fuck you, Jimmy.'_ Hugh ran greedy hands down his torso, fingers raking his creamy skin and leaving quickly fading trails _, 'You have no idea how gorgeous you look pinned beneath me, spreading wide so you can take it... I can always see the struggle in your eyes; how you're dying to be the good boy from Oklahoma who doesn't enjoy getting thoroughly fucked by a man, but then taking it feels so good that nothing else matters and you're about to come so hard you won't be able to deny that you love cock, not even to yourself.'_

 _I love *you*—_ James wanted to say, but instead moaned as he came, turned on by Hugh's words beyond telling,

 _'—No, let me,'_ he begged as Hugh took hold of his slim waist and began thrusting up into him. _He_ wanted to get Hugh off; it was as close as he could get to topping his man—and he knew he'd never dare asking for that.

 _'Okay, darling.'_ Hugh stopped moving with an obvious effort; looking surprised that this was what James wanted, but being as considerate as ever.

And James _moved_ , watching Hugh's face intently, loving the sight of him closing his eyes and parting his lips in pleasure… it was almost like fucking him, almost like making love to the strong, handsome man… _I love you,_ he thought as Hugh came, bending down to plant kisses on his bare shoulders and neck, his face and his lips. He clenched hard as Hugh's cock twitched over and over deep inside of him as he ejaculated, _I love you… I love you… love you…_ he kissed and licked and held Hugh close.

Still, he couldn't say it out loud. He hasn't said the three words since he got divorced, and now he found himself thanking Hugh for making breakfast instead of telling him how he felt.

Coward.

"Here we are," Hugh brought the car to a stop and turned in his seat to face him, smiling brightly while his hazel eyes shone. He, too, looked happier since their relationship became sexual… was it possible that it meant something for him, as well?

"Thanks," James moved in for a quick goodbye kiss on the lips.

Then Hugh moved in for another… and another… before they knew it they were French-kissing hungrily, as if they weren't screwing less than half an hour ago, until Hugh placed a firm hand on his chest—holding him back while pulling away.

"I won't be able to drive if we keep this up."

"Okay…" James's lips tingled. His chin and cheeks burnt from the friction caused by Hugh's newly grown beard. He breathed in Hugh's scent, cologne and soap and pines, and told the Aussie that he loved him one last time in his head before exiting the car.

James sat at the librarian desk and waited for McAvoy to return with their coffee. His thoughts kept wandering, and he didn't like the direction they were heading… but the nagging thought persisted—will Hugh still date him if they escape Wayward Pines? He knew without doubt that Hugh loved his wife, but he also suspected that they had somewhat of an open marriage arrangement… he could be wrong though—Hugh may very well be committed to his gorgeous lady, and it was just a temporary thing between them…

This particular train of thought always made him put off his escape plans. Hugh made him too happy and he didn't want to go there, not right now anyway… immature but true. He'd plan his escape when the time was right.

The front door finally opened,

"About time—" James started, but fell silent when he met the haunted green eyes,

"Hey… It's Kate, right?" he asked the redhead from the Wayward General Mercantile and she gave him the same small, nervous nod she did in the store back when they first met. She looked like the weight of the entire world rested on her narrow shoulders.

"How can I help?" James hoped that his smile was a reassuring one, but before he could finish she reached across the desk and handed him a book.

"Returning." She smiled through the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Um, thanks.”

Kate turned her back on him and made it halfway to the door, when she suddenly turned, a decision hardening her beautiful, tormented features. "Thank you for the recommendation."

And she left.

"…you're welcome." For a long minute James just stared at the door that closed behind her, an unpleasant feeling spreading through him… the feeling that he didn't want to know. He earned his new found happiness, and so must she.

"Coffee!" McAvoy announced, making him jump. When the hell did he arrive?

"Did she say anything to you?"

"Who did?" McAvoy set down a mug before him.

"Kate."

"Who?"

"The woman who just left? The lady from the Mercantile?" he added when he saw the Scot's blank expression.

"I didn't see anyone on the way in," he picked up a copy of 1998 Men's Health and sat down with his coffee and magazine, "besides, there's no Kate in the Mercantile."

"Whatever you say, man." Annoyed, James let him be and turned his attention to the book in his hands.

It was a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet and when James opened it in search of the card pocket, a yellow square post-it note caught his attention;

_604 First Avenue_

It read in hurried, barely legible handwriting.

Turning ever so slightly to block his actions from the camera's view, he peeled the note and tucked it into his pocket.

Hugh buzzed again and James swallowed hard.

He was nervous, he couldn’t lie.

This was their first time at McAvoy and Michael’s since they became a couple. Hugh was spending all of his nights at home since, and still James was afraid he’d lose him; that maybe seeing Michael would rekindle the flame… But McAvoy insisted and Hugh seemed happy enough, so all James could really do was pray.

“Hey sorry, we were on the patio. Come in,” It was Michael who opened the door this time around, and he was as calm and as composed as James remembered, and nothing at all like his goofy, extrovert husband. He was also one of the hottest men alive and James’s eyes glued to Hugh’s and Michael’s Hands as they shook, happy to see that it was brief.

Hugh’s arm snuck around his waist as they made their way to the patio and James smiled happily. Tonight they were two couples, two _real_ couples, on a double date.

This time when they moved to the living room after they ate, James and Hugh sat close together, Hugh’s arm draped over James’s shoulder while his was resting on Hugh’s thigh, soaking up the Aussie’s body heat. This time James paid attention to the conversation, compared gardening notes with the other men, and laughed at their hosts’ silly tales. _Like a true Wayward-Piner,_ an inner voice mocked but he ignored it. He was happy. Tonight was perfect, everything felt _right_ … and he barely gave the post-it note that was still hidden in his pocket any thought.

They held hands on their way home, and greeted the people they met on their way. The hate and fear in everyone’s eyes died out when he became Hugh’s lover and even Mag waved at them enthusiastically when they passed the café. James couldn’t recall feeling this happy in a while; he never had such a strong sense of belonging in L.A. He also couldn’t remember the last time he fell so hard for someone, or the last time someone made his heart skip a beat just by taking his hand.

 _I love you,_ he told Hugh in his head while squeezing his hand, _I think that this is the happiest I’ve ever been._

And as if he could hear him, Hugh pulled him close and kissed the top of his head.

Later that night, naked with his legs wrapped around Hugh’s waist, James broke the kiss and grasped the Australian’s shoulders so that he could search his eyes. It made the older man freeze, his face darkening with concern, but seeing James was alright warmth filled the hazel depths and he began moving again— long, slow thrusts, eyes locked with James’s. It was alarmingly intimate… strangely erotic. Still holding Hugh’s shoulders James maintained eye contact while Hugh steadily rocked his body, until the pleasure built up, tighter and hotter and impossible to contain, and before he knew it he was reaching an orgasm,

 _“Hugh…”_ James wrapped his arms around Hugh’s neck and held his man close as he came, while Hugh pressed gentle, loving kisses all over his face.

In hindsight he remembered thinking that sex with Hugh Jackman was perfect, that his life in Wayward Pines was perfect… But ironically, that night his happiness was short-lived.

That night, when he woke up before dawn, he found himself all alone in bed.


	12. Cabin in the woods

 

“You okay?”

“Just tired.” James wasn’t a big fan of passive-aggressiveness, but he literally couldn’t confront Hugh within town limits and so he found himself uncontrollably giving him the cold shoulder.

Hugh signed, a deep, heavy sigh that made it obvious he knew exactly why James was upset, and James was fighting the urge to shout at him to stop the car.

Instead, he gritted his teeth until it hurt and waited to get off at the god damned library. He looked away when Hugh kissed his cheek with the same lips that were all over Michael mere hours ago, and slammed the door as hard as he could behind him as he left.

Escaping.

He should escape. Find the supply truck and sneak into it when they offload the food at the Wayward General Mercantile. He should have done it a millennia ago! As soon as he gotten here! But instead he let himself fall for the two-faced, lying son of a bitch! What an idiot he’d been! He knew Hugh was screwing Michael long before he started dating him! What on earth made him think that dating a taken man was a good idea? Although… Hugh told him that there was nothing there! When they were in the woods! He did ask!

“I’ll be right back,” McAvoy said, either oblivious or not caring James was in such a rotten mood.

“Right.” James was pretending to go over the overdue list, trying not to raise any suspicions in those monitoring him. Who were they anyway? Dr. Jenkins and Nurse Pam? That bitch Megan? Whoever they were, let them rot! They could have this place and they could have Hugh-fucking-Jackman all to themselves—he was leaving.

He was so angry that for a moment he didn’t hear the meows, he only vaguely registered that he was being disturbed.

“Excuse me? …sorry? Hello!” someone said and it annoyingly mixed with a loud _meowww_ , making the hair-trigger actor look up and half shout,

“Yeah?!”

“Oh!” the old lady jumped, and the grey cat she was holding began swishing its tail quickly and violently from side-to-side. “Well now you’ve gone and upset him!”

James closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose at the threat of a migraine. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. What can I do for you?” He forced his eyes open and the room was all too bright. It was going to be a nasty one.

“It got out again!” she held up the cat as if she was the monkey in the Lion King, and James half considered turning his back on her and blindly search for the VCR room, where he’d curl up in a ball and wait it out.

“Who did?” he asked instead, but before she could answer McAvoy got back;

“Snowdrop!” he rushed over to the lady’s side and carefully pried the cat out of her hands. “Thank you Lilith. Don’t suppose you know how he got out this time?”

“All I know is that he was doing his business in my garden again!”

“I’m sorry. Let me call Michael and see if he can come over and take him home.”

“You do that. Tell him about my lawn as well.”

“Will do, Ma’am.”

James was already making his way to the VCR room when he heard McAvoy say “Out? What do you mean out, out where? Well any idea when is he coming back? No, that’s not at all convenient. Just tell him his husband called, will you? Alright. Thanks.”

“I’m out of here.”

“—Jimmy?!”

“Killer migraine—I can’t see straight. I’m going home.”

“You sure that’s a good idea, then?”

“I will see you tomorrow.” Was James’s stern reply.

“Okay. I will let Hugh know you went home.”

“You do that.” James muttered, although he had a feeling he’d be seeing Hugh much sooner than the Scot would.

604 First Avenue—how did he not think of that before?!

His queasy, thumping migraine was turning into a real blinder—the worst episode he had since puberty. People on the street were composed of blurred faces and too bright background lights. Glares of winter sunlight reflected from the shops’ display windows, shooting painful darts of light into his eyes. He just barely made it to First Avenue and struggled to make out the numbers with narrowed, bloodshot eyes, but he wasn’t giving up; this was his ‘lucky’ break.

Ha.

Of course Hugh spent most of his nights at home—he could see Michael whenever he fucking wished! The fucking Wayward Fire Department, they must be sitting on their hands just to keep from twiddling their thumbs! When was the last time they had to answer a call? What could possibly burn in this lousy, wet weather anyway?! And Hugh! Selling houses in a town with no currency or new residents! For all James knew—Hugh drove straight to Michael’s as soon as he dropped him off at the library each and every day! Come to think of it—where the hell was his office anyway? It’d been a month and James never been there!

And Kate, highly moral, tearful and hesitant Kate… she knew she’d be ruining two homes by giving James Hugh and Michael’s love nest address, but did it stop her?

 _Damn it!_ Angry and ill, James came to a stop.

In spite of his nearly blind state he made it all the way to 602, but that was the end of the street… then suddenly his stomach flip-flopped and his mouth ran dry, keeping him from calling out—

_Bryan?!_

A lone, blue car passed him, driven by (he was almost certain) his good friend Bryan Singer…

…although, between the flashes of light and zigzagged patterns he was currently seeing, it could have been his migraine playing tricks on him… couldn’t it? Hugh would have told him if Bryan was in town…

_Yeah? Same way he told you about Michael?_

_Oh, god, who cares?! Just find the place before it’s too late! Catch them in the act so that you finally know the truth—one way or the other!_

_(Idiot. There is no ‘other’, he’s cheating on you and you know it.)_

_Enough!_ His headache seemed to have tripled, _Think, Marsden… can’t be on the other side of the street—you’re looking for an even number… and the numbers will go down instead of up if you head back the way you came… but maybe… maybe…_

There was a neglected path leading into the woods; leading towards where 604 _would_ have been if the street extended any further… But come to think of it—the chosen location for their trysts was bound to be somewhat discreet…

Shielding his eyes from the bright rays of winter sun with his good hand, he began making his way up the hardly visible path, knees-high in overgrown grass.

James was about to give up when he found the deserted cabin in the woods. More accurately—he was about to give up even then, but that was when the rusty mailbox caught his eye.

It was unlocked, empty, and long out of use, but the faded numbers were still clear; the mailbox unmistakably read 604.

So… okay. The place sure looked deserted (and hazardous), but maybe inside…?

 _Maybe they’re fucking inside._ His mind viciously supplied, _wonder who’s top?_ It added insult to injury, because with a guy like Michael Hugh might actually bottom, and before James knew it he was mounting the moss-speckled stairs leading to the cabin.

Apparently the door wasn’t hinged, it was just leaning against the frame, and when James tried to open it, it toppled like a domino piece hitting the floor with a loud, hollow thud.

He could tell that he was gaping like an idiot, but for the longest moment James just stood there shocked, before his eyes began scanning the room hysterically, looking for red dots of light… but luckily there were none.

Or so he hoped, his eyesight was severely impaired due to his vicious migraine.

“…Hello?” he risked calling out although he had no doubt that the place was empty; had been empty for years… But… if Hugh and Michael weren’t screwing here… why did Kate go through the trouble of giving him this address?

 _‘I'd like everyone to take a moment to thank Kate and Harold Ballinger for doing their civic duty and bringing this woman to justice!’_ The sheriff’s voice suddenly rang in his head, a memory otherwise suppressed—he didn’t think about the execution he witnessed in weeks… but he remembered now. The sheriff thanked Kate for turning the poor woman in… then he was reminded of Hugh’s words _(that bastard!)_ and paled _‘These idiots have been on the Sheriff’s black list for months, they are part of a group which supports civil arrests and trials.’_

Was this some kind of a test then? Did he fail it by following the clue Kate gave him? Cold dread clutched at his rapidly thumping heart; did he let his anger and jealousy get the best of him? Would he pay with his life?

…Then again, maybe Kate’s clue awaited him inside? She looked so scared when she handed him the book, like a woman putting her life on the line… Should he venture inside just in case? Or go home before he’d get into trouble again?

If he didn’t follow through he’d always wonder… and this could be important…

 _Oh jeez,_ he forced himself to cross the threshold, stepping on the door he just knocked down, _take a quick look and get it over with!_

If only he could feel as certain. His heart pounded as he searched the filthy, neglected ramshackle. So far, all of the rooms were empty. The wooden walls were rotten and moist… big holes that formed in the roof over the years let in debris and dirt which now cover the squeaky floorboards.

He recognized the decaying corpse of a giant rat in one of the rooms and tried not to think of the ones that were still alive and well…

… _doesn’t matter, I’m nearly done, just one last room._

He’d been everywhere except at the end of that corridor; one last room and he was home free…

…or not.

James was still getting over his shock, for a moment even his blinding headache forgotten…

There was a bed in the room, and there was _a television_ —the only one he’d seen outside of the library.

Discarded on the bare bed, resting between springs that stuck out of the old, stained mattress, was a video cassette.

As oppose to the cassettes in the library, which were all labeled _Wayward Pines – Where Paradise is Home_ (and were either blank or included a brief footage of the mountains surrounding the town), this one simply read _Jimmy._

And yeah, it scared him to death… but it wasn’t enough to prevent him from picking it up and carrying it over to the VCR with shaky hands…

He realized that this was either a test that would cost him his life… or the truth.

Exhausted, depressed and miserable, James felt that he got nothing to lose either way. He fed it into the VCR.

“Seven days?” He asked the empty room in an ill attempt to lift his spirit, but the bad joke quickly backfired as goosebumps covered him from head to toe… Uncontrollably imagining wood creaking behind him, James fought the urge to look over his shoulder with all his might, and chills climbed up his spine until he felt his scalp tightening, as if it had shrunken and could no longer cover the whole of his head. Perhaps a deserted cabin in the woods wasn’t the best place for morbid ghost references, then.

Lost in thoughts he yelped as loud, eerie music suddenly started playing. His panicked mind registered that it was coming from the TV as the screen abruptly lit up, but his slow, achy brain kept pumping adrenaline through his veins regardless, and his heart was beating so quickly he felt ill.

_What’s this?_

Through the haze of his migraine and numbing fear, he watched a series of cut scenes… in each, a small model of Wayward Pines, completed with tiny dolls was shown. He recognized Main Street and the public park… the hospital and the cemetery… small models of Nurse Pam and the Sheriff… was this some kind of a joke?

Then James heard something much creepier than the solemn music and his doubts flew out the window; they no longer mattered… he heard himself.

He was saying _“You finished the popcorn?! You pig!”_ then he was laughing. He sounded high as fuck.

_“I’ll make some more Jimmy, concentrate, this is important!”_

_“If it’s important you shouldn’t have let me smoke…”_ He—or his imposter had said. Meanwhile the screen faded out, then back in, showing a close-up of an eye. It zoomed out until James could make out Matt Dillon’s familiar face… He was covered in bruises, and limping through an awfully familiar forest, until he arrived in an awfully familiar town.

 _“Jimmy you’re snoozing!”_ the voice mixed with the soundtrack of Matt Dillon’s quest, but it was definitely coming from the TV…

_“Man, I’m tired, hungry and high… if you care about this show all that much we can watch it tomorrow.”_

_“Don’t you dare_ _switch it off.”_

_“Challenge accepted!”_

In the meantime Matt was arriving at a café, at _their_ café…

“—Mag?!” back in reality, James called, recognizing his part-time waitress friend.

Matt collapsed, only to wake up in a very familiar hospital room, under the inspecting gaze of a very familiar evil nurse…

Then there was snow.

_“Jimmy! You little fucker, turn it back on!”_

_“Tomorrow man. Now about that popcorn?”_

And the TV switched off, leaving James staring at the dark screen, his palms drenched with sweat and his mouth completely dry.

What did he just see? A memory? A dream? A hallucination?

James sure wished that the other James, the high one that apparently refused to watch TV, would have let the show play for a couple more minutes before switching it off… then maybe he’d have some answers… But right now he had even more questions, because if there was a TV show about Wayward Pines starring Matt Dillon and he saw it—then why couldn’t he remember doing so? And if the whole thing was a hallucination—then what was happening to him? Maybe this wasn’t a migraine at all? Maybe _they_ did something to him?

The fear and confusion made his headache triple. His very eyelids felt heavy and sore.

It all felt like too much to take in in his poor state, and in spite of the repulsive place he was in, he sat on the floor, and, leaning against the bed, closed his burning eyes, only for a bit…

There was a new sound in the cold, late afternoon and James Marsden’s head jerked up.

Rain drummed on what was left of the roof, and the floor was covered in puddles…

Where was he?

He looked around…

He was lying on the wooden floor of an empty, dirty room and it all came back to him—he must have fallen asleep.

The outer world was composed of dark shades of blue and was growing darker by the minute, but he wanted to watch the video once more now that he was well. (Oh, right! His migraine was gone! His face felt sensitive still, but it was just a ghost memory of that terrible, blinding episode of headache.)

But… _but where was it?!_

The TV was gone… The cassette was gone too.

James got up, sore from the prolonged stay on the hard, cold floor, and made his way to where the TV should have been…

 _“No…_ _NO god-damn it!”_

He was so tired of Wayward Pines playing tricks on him!

He thought that he finally got a grip on his life here, and yet…

And yet, the floor where he could swear a TV stood not too long ago was just as dusty as the rest of the room… _Nothing_ stood there for many years… James searched the wall, searched all four walls, but couldn’t see any sockets.

…he was hallucinating then. Like he did with the campfire… Then he was reminded;

_‘It’s good to see your memory is coming back. You were delirious when you came in. Couldn’t remember who you were.’_

And,

_‘Nurse Pam said that you may experience relapses…’_

Even the memory of Hugh’s voice hurt, and James forced himself to focus on the matter at hand; did he ever hallucinate during a bad migraine attack in the past? He couldn’t remember, but that said—he only suffered from migraines during puberty so it’d been a while…

But he didn’t have time for soul searching right then, it was growing dark and soon night would fall. James had no desire to navigate back at nighttime.

He made his way out of the cabin, and towards Wayward Pines.

_Now what?_ James tensed.

He realized that something was off the minute he arrived at Main Street, but he couldn’t put his finger on it at first…

Then it hit him; the people of Wayward Pines were looking at him funny again, as if someone let them all know that he and Hugh had a fallout.

 _“Mag!”_ Like on his very first day, he found the waitress outside the café, swiping the floor. “Mag! Hey, Mag!”

She looked up from the floor she was swiping, not too happy to see him, but he didn’t care,

“Say, Mag—did you ever have a man walk into the coffee shop then collapse by the counter? Tall and dark, his face covered in bruises—”

But before he could finish she was shaking her head ‘no’.

She turned her back on him, ready to leave, but then looked over her shoulder and said, “Rabbit trails usually lead to rabbit holes… I wouldn’t follow one if I were you, Jimmy.”

Rabbit trails? Did she mean the path leading to 604?

Before he could ask she went back into the café just as another woman got out, and James’s heart began beating crazily in his ears,

 _“Lisa?!”_ He thought he recognized his ex-wife and was running to catch up with her without questioning the likelihood she’d be in Wayward Pines without him knowing—

“Lisa wait, wait!”

She was fast, but he managed to grasp her by the sleeve and bring her to a stop in an alley by the back door of the _Wayward Pines Butchery._

“Lisa!”

She turned sharply,

“Oh God! Oh sorry! I thought you were my ex-wife I… I… I know you!”

“Do you?” She smiled, a small, mysterious smile.

“Yeah, I recognize your face. You’re the woman the sheriff executed in Main Square!”

“Well that doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

“No… what’s going on?”

Her smile only grew wider. She looked mental, but it didn’t stop him from begging, “Please… I need to know the truth.”

“There’s your truth,” she gestured with her head and James turned;

Hugh was walking down Main Street, nervously, hurriedly.

James looked back at her, pleading with his eyes that she’d tell him what she knew.

She shook her head _no_ , “He will be out of sight any second now, darling… so? The lady or your man? It’s your choice.”

And sad, James turned his back on her, knowing he’d never see her again—and ran into Main Street to follow Hugh.

James kept a safe distance from his husband until he began recognizing where he was… he could see the _Wayward General Mercantile_ in the distance, and it seemed Hugh was heading that way.

The Aussie wasn’t running, he still greeted the passersby with a friendly head gesture, but James knew him well enough to tell he was in a hurry.

 _Can’t be late to one of your rendezvouses, you son of a bitch?_ James cursed him at heart, and immediately his chest tightened with pain and regret. Fool that he was, he loved Hugh still.

Hugh was definitely headed to the mercantile, but he couldn’t possibly get in; the place closed hours ago.

Then James saw him circling the building and disappearing into the alley behind it, and quickly followed suit.

Where the hell was he?

Hugh was out of James’s sight for less than ten seconds—and now he was gone! James ran down the alley—but it was a dead end, filled with industrial waste bins. A stray cat that didn’t want to part with his empty tuna can hissed angrily and James backed off, eyes searching the alley.

Nothing.

The only other option was the mercantile’s back door, but that would be trespassing (and no, he didn’t want to spend another evening in Sheriff Pope’s office, thank you very much).

Although… he could always apologize and say that he was searching for his husband, which was true, couldn’t he?

Hesitantly, not forgetting the last door that he tried to open, James reached for the handle.

Letting out the breath he was holding he pushed it down and pulled.

His eyes needed a moment to adjust; the room was dimly lit by dozens of flickering candles. _Very romantic._ He felt sick to his stomach.

Slowly, the room began taking shape... and James’s pulse began booming in his ears.

They were there.

They didn’t notice him, but they were there alright, and his childish need to turn his back on them and run was overwhelmingly dire—but no… He went out of his way in order to learn the truth—it was time to face the music,

“Hugh?” he called, still hoping against hope that he somehow got it wrong… but then both Hugh and Michael turned to face him.

Only instead of guilt, Hugh’s face immediately hardened,

“Listen to me Jimmy—don’t you move. Don’t you fucking dare to move, and don’t make a sound. Quiet!” He commanded as the first tear rolled down James’s cheeks, and fool that he was, James found himself complying—following Hugh’s lead even now by biting his lower lip to keep quiet. “Close the door behind you.” Hugh said and James closed it numbly, tears running down his cheeks uncontrollably. Lost, he hugged himself out of misery and heartache. How could he?! James followed the rules for him, stayed in Wayward Pines for him… he loved Hugh as much as he loved himself, so how could he?!

“Good, now come here,” Hugh calmly and quietly said while crossing the short distance and pulling James into his arms.

Devastated as he was, James returned the hug. _“Why--”_ he started, but his voice failed him.

All along Michael just _stood_ there, unwavering.

“Shh, this isn’t what it looks like babe, calm down.” Hugh said, one hand tangling in James’s hair and guiding him to rest his head against a broad shoulder, while the other was running down his back until it slipped into the pocket of his jeans and pulled him close.

“Right,” James muttered even while leaning into the touch, but in spite of himself hope was kindled in his heart; he loved Hugh so much, he wanted to hear that he was wrong about them so badly…

“It’s true,” a familiar voice said, “I’d have chopped Michael’s privates off if he was having an affair.”

And blue eyes wide, James straightened in Hugh’s arms and turned to face McAvoy. His mind numbly registered that other people were in the poorly lit room as well, and he urgently wiped off his tears before looking their way.

“You?!... What are you doing here?” he asked Kate, feeling strangely betrayed by her; misled to go into the woods while she was here, doing god-knew-what with his husband. Standing next to her was a tall skinny guy James didn’t know and his suspicion must have showed.

“This is Harold, my husband.”

“Your husband…” he echoed, thoroughly confused and annoyed. “What’s going on? What is this?” he demanded, pulling out of Hugh’s arms.

“Hugh…” Kate warned, but Hugh shook his head,

“He deserves to know the truth.”

“We can’t risk dragging even more people into it! _They_ will find out—”

“—He’s an actor darling, no one’s more qualified to pretend than him.”

And James turned to face his man, shock written all over his face; Hugh spoke of the past!

“Don’t get used to it, Jimmy; we try to obey the rules even here. Following them takes practice, and practice makes perfect.” Hugh clarified as he led him towards a table that stood in the far corner of the room.

“Can’t they hear us?”

“The storage room burnt several years ago, a real nasty fire. It was Harold who noticed that they never bothered fixing the electricity nor the cameras. He found us the perfect headquarters,”

And James’s eyes landed on the table.

The big workspace was covered with tools, wires, and pieces of what looked like grey playdough.

“…you’re building a bomb.”

“We’re taking down the wall.” McAvoy said, pride and hope filling his voice.

“You’re going to escape?”

“ _We’re_ going to escape.” Michael corrected; the man Hugh _wasn’t_ having an affair with.

James wasn’t sure what made him happier; to learn that there was a way out—or to learn that Hugh wasn’t cheating on him.

“Is that where you went? …all of these nights?”

Hugh nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I’m sorry Jimmy. I hated hurting you, but we needed for _them_ to believe I was leaving because I was having an affair… and for you to sell it to them. No idea why you decided it was with Michael though.” Hugh smiled sadly, apologetically.

“Clearly you don’t think much of me as an actor...” James mumbled in real pain.

“Don’t be silly Jimmy—you’re the one who turned down a part in my musical.”

And him speaking of the past once more made James too happy to dwell on the insult.

Smiling, his eyes landed on Kate and he was reminded;

“There was nothing in 604.”

But in spite of the privacy they got to enjoy she made a face at him, “What do you mean?”

“604, the address that you gave me?”

“604?” she laughed, but her face fell seeing that he meant it. “I didn’t give you anything. Which 604? Not… not First Avenue?”

“Yes! Yes, First Avenue—the address that you gave me! Here—” he searched his pockets for the note, but he must have lost it in the woods, and frustrated he looked up. Her green eyes were wide and agitated.

“I would never send you there, Jimmy. That’s where they keep the dead bodies.”

“The dead bodies?” It was his turn to laugh in disbelief.

“Well yeah. That cottage used to belong to Rick Stallings; the first ‘rebel’ who ever tried to leave Wayward Pines. They shut 604 down, and now they hang the bodies of the reckoned in the yard for everyone to see. No one knows what they do with them after they rot.”

“That… that doesn’t make any sense. So no one ever goes in?”

“I heard that the high school kids sometimes play dares and spend the night, but I can’t believe that even they are stupid enough. No one in his right mind would go in—the place is falling apart. I sure hope that you didn’t?”

“I’m… no. No, I just thought, you know… that there would be something there but there wasn’t.” So it wasn’t Kate who stuck a post-it note inside of the cover? Who was it then?

She shrugged, “We’re going to leave all of that behind, soon.”

And her eyes rested on the explosives.

It was raining again, a constant drumming on the rooftops of the small town.

The two men were sitting in the living room by the fire, looking into each other’s eyes wordlessly, lovingly. Each had his own reason to feel better that night, and the relief they both felt was evident on their faces.

They held hands, their wedding bands glistening; an oath neither remembered taking, but one that felt true nevertheless.

It was the younger, American actor that moved in for a kiss. It was the Australian that sent hands into his lover’s shirt.

They made out for hours on end, slowly, attentively.

Both reached an orgasm several times that night, but it was done almost offhandedly, a side effect of them being able to touch and kiss and lick.

To love.


	13. Out of the woods

 

Their last day in Wayward Pines started normally enough.

Well, ‘normal’ for James Marsden at this point in life was to wake up in Hugh Jackman’s arms and try to summon up the courage to tell him how much he loved him. How Hugh made him feel lucky to be alive; even lucky to be trapped in Wayward Pines.

He didn’t think much of the cups of coffee Hugh brought to the bed, he was far more interested in how gorgeous the Australian looked in his rather revealing robe; he had no idea that these were the last cups of joe that they would get to share in this house.

He had no idea that this was the last morning he would get to reach out and undo Hugh’s robe, then pull the naked man down on top of him—the last time that they would make love before going to work.

Had James known, he would have done everything differently. He would have told Hugh that he loved him over and over, would have opened the window and shout it out at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear. He would have savored every little sip of the coffee Hugh made especially for him, and hold on to him after they made love, never letting him casually kiss his forehead and roll off. But he didn’t know, so he acted normal.

And why shouldn’t he act normal? It was just another day in Wayward Pines... well, almost.

The bombs were distributed between the three couples and the D-Day was set for the following weekend, when everyone including the sheriff would be in the public park for the Wayward Christmas Market opening. It was their best shot.

Kate, who was the head of the operation, kept stressing out one thing alone; ‘ _up until then—act normal.’_

So James acted normal.

As chance would have it, the last straw turned out to be the cat.

That morning, James and McAvoy were stacking the shelves with a week’s worth of returned books and talking about ways to protect roses from winter damages.

The library was almost empty, only several senior citizens were reading quietly in the designated area, and McAvoy’s voice was the only one breaking the silence;

“If you don’t stop fertilizing a month before the first frost the rose will continue to grow well into winter, you see. It won’t harden off that way.”

“Um-mm,” James distractedly said while looking for the letter H; he always struggled with that one. He had no idea that roses needed to harden for the winter. Also, he didn’t care.

“Now, the first frost isn’t very predictable, so what we normally do is stop fertilizing after the first rain. That usually works for us—”

“By ‘stop fertilizing’ you mean keeping your cat from shitting in the bushes?” James joked, patience wearing thin.

“What cat?” McAvoy smiled absentmindedly while picking up another book from the cart.

“Ha-ha,” James shot back drily. There it was; H.

He reached for the cart when he felt McAvoy’s eyes on him and looked up. The Scot was staring at him with big, troubled eyes.

“Cut the crap. Snowdrop, your cat. Grey. Fat. Lilith your neighbor brought him over the other day when he escaped.”

“This isn’t funny Jimmy. You’ve been to our place, you know that we don’t have a cat… I don’t like it when you joke like that.” Then McAvoy soundlessly, hysterically, mouthed the words _‘what are you doing?’_

“There’s no cat?” James challenged in sudden, furious anger.

McAvoy was mad too, his lips thin and pale, his eyes hard. “I asked you to stop.”

“Yeah, and I’ve stopped! Many times before!”

He stopped when there was no sign of a campfire, he stopped when McAvoy told him that there was no Kate working in the mercantile, he stopped when the TV disappeared and he stopped when the post-it note—which was the proof he was sane—vanished into thin air.

…and maybe he wasn’t sane. Who’d put up with so much crap before cracking? Who’d accept that this was his life, if only for a while?

…Were they drugging him? The pill Nurse Pam made him take? Or rather… the pill _Hugh_ made him take? Were there hallucinogens in the water? In the food?

“I’m done.” James said. He wanted the truth, and he wanted it _now._

“Jimmy!” McAvoy called, “we have plans for the weekend, remember? Don’t spoil everyone’s fun.” He half warned, half begged—but James no longer cared. If he couldn’t trust his own eyes, his own ears… then who’s to say that come Friday they wouldn’t deny that they ever made plans to escape?

“I’m out of here.”

“Please, Jimmy! Wait… just wait a short while longer, yeah?” McAvoy was begging with his eyes as he followed him to the door.

“No. Ever since I arrived here this town kept me waiting for _‘just a short while longer’_. I’m sorry… but I’m done.”

He ran out of the building and down the stairs, towards the hospital. He’d _shake_ the answers out of Pam that bitch if he’d have to!

He ran and he ran, keeping his eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the identical, ominous glares he knew he was receiving from everyone. Not wanting to see the wall, even though he could _feel_ it; its presence dominated the town.

His eyes drifted up on their own accord; the wall was grey and tall and _everywhere._

“…Jimmy?” Hugh called as he entered the house, “Jimmy, you’re here?” he hung his coat and dropped the keys into one of the pockets.

James didn’t bother answering. He just stared at the unlit hearth. At the dead, burned out logs.

“James.”

“Did McAvoy call you?”

“Yeah, he did.” And at least Hugh was being honest. “What have you been up to?”

“Dunno. I ran. Saw the wall. Came back here.”

“Ah.” Hugh took a seat by his side. “Want to talk about it?”

“There’s a hand missing.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Our clock. There’s a hand missing. It was there this morning.”

“Oh? Why do you think that is?”

“Because I’m… unwell.”

“You’re what?” Hugh chuckled, but seeing James meant it he froze. “What do you mean by _unwell_ , Jimmy?”

“Drugged… or maybe unhinged. I saw the dead woman.”

“Who?”

“Beverly. The woman they killed on the night of the reckoning. I saw her. We spoke. Hugh… am I having a relapse? Nurse Pam said that I might.”

He expected Hugh to nod, to confirm the Wayward Pines version of things, but Hugh only stared at him, long and hard, “What do you think?”

“Me?” James was surprised by the question. Surprised by how fast this place made him accept that his opinion didn’t matter.

“I think…” his forehead wrinkled as he gathered his thoughts, “I think that it’s all too convenient. I mean, I’m being forced to pursue something that I wanted for so long—but felt too guilty about, in a town without any forms of media, away from all of my family issues… away from my agent. A place where no one is allowed to drink or smoke—after I’ve been trying to quit for so many years…”

“What are you saying, Jimmy?” Hugh asked, but he wasn’t jeering… he was probing, encouraging.

“I’m…” James signed, frustrated at his inability to find the right words. “I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes I wonder if any of it is real.” He finally said what up until now he dared not even think, and a far-off sonic boom was heard—as if Wayward itself was calling _eureka._

“You’re saying I’m unreal?” Hugh chuckled.

“You’re Hugh Jackman—you’re too good to be true on any given day… let alone as my own private boy toy.”

“Okay, Jimmy,” Hugh was laughing again, “What is _this_ then?” He gestured at the outer world with his hands.

“I'm not sure… what do you think?”

“Doesn’t really matter if you are right, does it?”

James immediately paled, _“Am I right?!”_

“…I don't know. Why am I trying to destroy the wall protecting your so called ‘dream-life’ if I'm just a figment of your imagination?”

“Hugh!” Hysterical, James looked up at the camera above them, suddenly reminded that _they_ were watching, but Hugh just shrugged indifferently.

“…Because you are trying to help?” James thought long and hard, trying to decide if it was likely he’d dream Hugh as his savior. “I mean, you always tried guiding me in the right direction with my career... and you’re the most honest, reliable guy that I know… I kept wishing you would notice that I’m going through a rough patch since the divorce… so maybe you represent the part of me that knows what’s right? That refuses to live a lie, no matter how attractive? Does that make sense?”

“Well, I always did care very deeply about you, Jimmy. I fell for you at first sight, you know.”

“That is either very sweet, or completely false…” James mused sadly.

“Guess it is.” Hugh agreed, confusing him even more. A headache began pulsing at the base of his skull once again.

“Could be both, though.”

“What could?”

“My feelings for you. Maybe you always knew that you had me at hello, so you added it to the mix.”

“Not very likely; I was always sad that I didn't. That John did.”

“Aww, I'm sorry Jimmy. You should have said—I would have chosen you.”

“Which is again, either complete bullshit or very sweet… Hugh?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s bring it down.”

“Jimmy?”

“The wall—let's bring it down. I mean they heard us,” he pointed at the camera, “we might as well try… let's do it quickly, before they kill us at main square.”

“Oh, Jimmy… You should be so lucky. They won't kill you. They didn't kill you the last time you tried to escape and they won't this time around. If anything, they saved your life when you got attacked at the cemetery—they want you alive, they want you to stay here… forever.”

And goosebumps covered James's body when he was reminded of Nurse Pam's word; _I see the way you look at The Wall and I want to assure you—there’s only one way out of Wayward Pines…_ then she pointed an imaginary gun to her head.

“That can't be true. I was there at the night of the reckoning, I saw what they did to the—”

“To the woman you later spoken to? …We can try to bring the wall down on our own James, but we are more likely to end up in prison than on the other side.”

“Is the prison located in Wayward, then?”

“Where else would it be?”

“So we either risk going to prison... or we stay in one.” James smiled bitterly and got up, “Shall we?”

“Might as well—the sexual hijinks can’t be all that different from home,” Hugh joked as he rose to his feet and pulled James in for a quick kiss… that turned into a long, searing one, followed by a crushing hug.

“My cast is gone.” James observed indifferently while fastening his seatbelt—in a place where cats disappear anything could happen.

“You were in a cast?” Hugh asked, adjusting the rear-view mirror which reflected the homemade bomb in the back seat.

“Yeah, my right arm.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure… I woke up with it. Nurse Pam said that I had an accident, but now the cast is gone.”

“Maybe you’re done healing.”

“Maybe…” James liked the explanation, it rang true… _Oh!_

“Hugh, were you married before I arrived here? Was your first husband reckoned?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, babe.”

“Yeah, figured. Ever saw Bryan around?”

“Singer? No, never.”

“Righty-o.”

“I take it you’ve seen him. Should we be offended he never stopped by?”

“Ha. Look—the strawberry bushes are gone, too, and just when they began bearing fruit.” James observed, saddened. He was proud of that small achievement of his.

“Are they? Oh, yeah…you’re right. So we’re thinking this is a dream, then?” Hugh asked while pulling out of the driveway.

“I don’t know what to think. Maybe we’re asleep; maybe I’m in Wayward dreaming I’m in Wayward…”

“I never thought of that… for all we know you could still be sound asleep on the floor in 604, and this could be a dream within a dream! Great movie, a bit too long—Woah!”

A massive pine tree ahead of them toppled without any warning, and Hugh had to hit the brakes as fast and as hard as he possibly could—the wheels screeched and smoked, but he managed to bring them to a stop before crashing.

“Well that’s a dead end if I ever seen one,” he shifted into reverse and quickly turned the car around; that was when they saw the Sheriff’s truck driving towards them,

 _“Stop the car and get out of the vehicle!”_ his speakers boomed.

A movement caught James’s eye; the commotion made the people sitting inside the café rush to the street—which was lucky for them, because suddenly the coffee shop began… _oh god---_ It began collapsing, the roof sinking in and bringing down the walls with it as if it was nothing but a house of cards! Walloping shock clamped James’s throat, and before he could recover Hugh hit the gas, driving directly towards the sheriff and James’s eyes bugged in pure terror—

Then the sheriff hit the brakes and Hugh, never losing his cool, turned the steering wheel abruptly—wildly spinning the car in order to take a sharp turn into the woods.

Their seatbelts locked as their bodies were thrown left, then right—but they made it.

 _“Oh God.”_ James’s voice shook, his pulse was racing.

“Sorry.”

“No, that was… impressive.”

“Swordfish, stunt driving lessons.” Hugh absentmindedly said while calculating a route to the wall and urgently checking the rearview mirror; sure enough, the sheriff was hot on their trails.

It looked as if someone had pressed Wayward Pine’s big, red _self-destruct_ button; trees were falling around them like dominos.

“Hugh?”

“Jimmy?”

“I think something happened to me… something bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought that the last thing I remembered was landing in L.A. and going to bed, but I remember now. I went out to a party at a friend’s house.”

“Right.” Hugh’s face immediately hardened, letting James know that he understood who the friend in question was; the two of them never got along.

“Yeah, well, I’d been drinking and smoking and maybe also… you know. Don’t look at me this way, I had a rough week and…” but Hugh was still sulking and James sighed. “Okay, I was being stupid, but that’s not important right now. I think that the last thing I really remember is watching a TV show about Wayward Pines when I began feeling sick… I had a terrible, blinding headache that kept getting worse until I literally couldn’t see… I think I might have… you know? Please don’t laugh, I’m scared.”

“What Jimmy? You think that you died and Wayward Pines is heaven?”

“I don’t know what to think! Nothing makes sense…”

“Well let’s just—” but he didn’t get to finish. The wall was already within sight, but a car was blocking the road. Nurse Pam and Megan Fisher stood at each side, smiling wide, crooked smiles; they were both carrying shotguns.

Hugh began driving in reverse—until the sheriff’s truck came into view, raising clouds of dust and blocking them from behind.

“Get out of the car, Jimmy!” Hugh shouted as he hit the brakes and undid his belt.

So scared he felt sick, James undid his belt and threw his door open, then ran towards Hugh. The Australian took a firm hold of his hand and led him into the woods,

“Run! Don’t look back!”

“Where are we going?” James shouted over the deafening _booms_ ; trees were falling left and right and the very earth shook.

“Up the mountains, we’re getting out of here even if it’s the last thing that we do!”

“It very well may be!” James cried out when he heard the first gunshot. They were aiming at him but they missed, and James looked at the pine tree that they hit instead… three tranquilizing darts were stabbed into its bark—Hugh was right; they weren’t trying to kill them… Pam, Megan and the sheriff were, quite possibly, the part of him that wanted to stay here, the part that chose escapism over dealing with whatever happened to him while watching TV on that fateful night.

Then, as if the small darts were enough to tip it over, the tree began inclining and James resumed his run, following Hugh’s lead.

They began climbing not far from where the wall met the circular chain of mountains that surrounded the town.

The slope was steep, the ground was muddy… James was using the rest-steps maneuver Bear Grylls had taught him, and still his muscles burnt with the effort of hurriedly climbing a mountain.

He groaned as he took a big step and struggled to shift his weight to the front foot, and Hugh immediately stopped climbing and offered him a helping hand.

“…thanks,” James panted as he took it. Hugh was in much better shape thanks to his Wolverine workout routine.

“Almost there,” Hugh encouraged; they climbed to the same height as the top of the wall, and seeing it from up there—damn thing looked almost beautiful. Like the wall of China or—

 _“JIMMY!!!”_ Paling, Hugh turned, eyes wide with unadulterated fear. He pulled on James’s arm so forcefully that his shoulder gave a painful click—James was certain that he dislocated it, but then he saw what set Hugh off and his shoulder was quickly forgotten—

 _“What are they?! Hugh! What the fuck are they?!?”_ he cried as they ran towards the wall.

“How the fuck would I know Jimmy, you’re the one who watched the damn show—you tell me!” and James had never seen or heard his co-star that afraid.

“I only saw the pilot, I have no idea! _Fuck!_ Hugh! They’re quick!”

“Don’t look back! This way, quickly!” And Hugh jumped off the mountain, landing on top of the wall—which was a good couple of yards below them.

“Jimmy!” he shouted when he saw the hesitation in the blue, panicked eyes.

His urgent voice was all the encouragement James needed in order to run, push with his back leg—and jump.

_“Ah!”_ he landed poorly and twisted his ankle, but he landed on the wall rather than into the abyss. Ignoring the pain he followed Hugh’s wide eyes back to the mountain; the creatures didn’t follow. They were either scared or unable to jump. Instead they bared their sharp teeth and shrieked horrible sounds. They didn’t look like aliens, they didn’t look like werewolves… they didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen, and for the hundredth time James wished that he hadn’t switch off the TV quite so soon.

“My ankle…” the pain brought him back to the present.

“Come on,” Hugh supported him with a hand around his waist and James wrapped his around Hugh’s shoulders and limped along,

“Where to?”

“The other side, it may be clear… and I don’t see any other choice,” Hugh admitted, “we’re pretty much stuck here.”

Up until then James hadn’t dared, but now he looked down;

 _“Oh, God,”_ he was feeling dizzy. The wall was so tall that they were practically in flight level! His eyes immediately darted back up;

“Hugh—there are _things_ on the other side as well!” The creatures were quickly covering everything in sight—as if they could smell that two humans were stuck on the wall like a couple of sitting ducks.

“Okay… okay. We just camp up here, then. Wait it out.”

“Think they might leave?”

“As long as we don’t freeze or starve first? Yeah, I think they eventually will.”

“Right… good, good. We wait, that’s... good.” His eyes were drawn to the abyss once more, “Oh, God.”

“Don’t. Let’s sit down, my legs are killing me and your ankle needs rest.”

Keeping away from the edges, they sat back to back, legs drawn to their chests. They leaned against each other, both needing to feel some sort of stability while hanging between ground and sky.

“Hugh, if this is a dream—” James broke the tense silence, feeling bad that he dragged the Australian into this mess, but before he could go on Hugh asked,

“… _If_ this is a dream? What are your other options? I mean, the whole place is falling to pieces like Alcatraz in X-3.”

“Please don’t remind me of that movie.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t our best one.”

 _“Mm…”_ James thought long and hard, “I could be delusional. Or high.”

“So…”

“So maybe I’m on top of a mountain all by myself, hearing voices, and down there awaits me very actual death?”

“You make it sound like you intend to jump?”

James risked looking down once more and felt the same dizzy, spinning nausea.

“Not even under gun threat,” he admitted and hung his head in defeat. Only one way out of Wayward Pines… but he’d die of old age before daring to tread it.

“Besides I could be wrong. I could die.”

“What’s the alternative, then?”

“To stay here? To live with you in our lovely cottage, to go to work, to meet up with our friends? It could be worse.”

“Only none of it is real.”

“No… probably not. But I’m happy…”

“Well here’s your chance at happiness, then.” Hugh said, somehow knowing before it ever came into sight that a helicopter was on its way. It emerged above the tree tops and approached them, blowing wind that almost threatened to throw them off the wall, until it slowed down and hovered above them, it’s loud propellers scaring away the creatures that awaited them on both sides.

“Hugh! Jimmy!” Dr. Jenkins stuck out his head as he throw them a rope ladder, “Come up! Let me take you back home, we can discuss everything calmly after we all settle down,”

“Well?” Hugh rose to his feet and caught the ladder. Sore, James followed suit. “The blue or the red pill Jimmy? What will it be?”

“Hugh! We don’t know that… this could be real.”

“Do you believe that?”

“…no.” James couldn’t lie to him… not to him. “But at least I know what awaits me here,” he gestured at the town with his hand, “I have no idea what awaits me… you know.” This time he didn’t look down; he hadn’t dared. The aspect of climbing a rope ladder while hanging from a helicopter was terrifying enough as it was.

Hugh just stared at him, long and hard.

“To be or not to be.”

“Sorry?”

“…that is the question,” Hugh recited, eyes on the depths below, “To die, to sleep, perchance to dream; aye there's the rub… For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?”

“…Hamlet.” James’s thoughts wandered back to Kate. Back to yet another too obvious clue he failed to fathom… But if this was truly a dream and he didn’t jump to his ‘death’… would he dream forever?

And if so… was that necessarily a bad thing? He was happy here… he was safe. He had his man…

…didn’t he?

“Hugh?”

He had no reason to leave if Hugh was his, and if he wasn’t… well jumping didn’t sound like such a bad option, then.

“Yeah?” the wind from the helicopter rotors was ruffling his co-star’s otherwise perfect hair, making him look like an action hero in the final act, ready to save the day.

It made it even harder on James to stop hemming and hawing.

“…Jimmy?” Pulling at the ladder Hugh urged, feeling the Doctor’s eyes on them, “Are we going home—or do you like it up here too much?”

 _Oh, god…_ Even now, while facing a possible death, he was scared of finding out if the feelings were mutual. _Stupid ego!_ Angry with himself, he searched Hugh's eyes. Their bright, hazel depths were ever so alert, caring and brave, and the words finally came out, rolling off his tongue as if he had said them a million times before;

"I love you.”

Hugh blinked in surprise, but at the same time he looked genuinely moved and it encouraged James to go on, “I wanted you for years, but I’ve been such a coward… I needed for Wayward Pines to confront me with the truth. I think…” James took a deep breath; it was a terrifying thing to admit, “…I think that I would rather stay here with you... for good."

“…Jimmy.” the Aussie moved in for a kiss and James immediately parted his lips; the kiss was deep and despaired. Hugh broke it and searched James’s eyes, gently tucking away his tangled bangs, "I love you too, James; I love you so much…”

But Hugh looked sad. Tears rolled down his cheeks as a decision hardened his gaze and he let go of the ladder.

_“Hugh?!”_

“I’d love to keep you here with me, Jimmy.” Hugh smiled through his tears, his voice raw, “To play house with you till the end of our days; to go to our pretend jobs and meet up with our pretend friends… but this is wrong. Shh, don’t cry, babe. You know this isn’t right. You know that I can’t be the reason you stay here."

“I don’t care, I love you… Hugh, please…” James couldn’t help his tears as he begged; the ladder was still within reach… Then alarmed and terrified, he wondered if by confessing his feelings he had already made his choice between Wayward Pines and the truth—between the two sides of him that were at war.

“I love you too, more than you will ever know.”

 _“Then please,”_ James began,

“Shh… enough darling.” Hugh gathered him into his arms, into a final, crushing hug, “I’ll see you on the other end, yeah?” he kissed James’s forehead—

_“NO, WAIT!”_

But forcing himself to be brave for the both of them—Hugh closed his eyes and used his hold on James to _jump._

Air slapped his body and face with so much force that he couldn't open his mouth to scream, and his stomach flip flopped, like in a roller coaster, like in a bad dream, only without the knowledge he would make it, and he forcefully clung to Hugh's body, crushing his bigger frame while a surge of such fierce regret filled him so rapidly that his heart broke to a million tiny pieces—he wished they hadn't jumped! A false lifetime with Hugh was quite possibly as good as it got and it sure beat _death—_

But just then the tree tops slapped them and the ground became alarmingly close—

They hit it and his entire body jolted, but instead of the immense, fiery pain of bones crushing—there was a sudden, bright light.

 


	14. I guess this is goodbye

"…Jimmy?"

"Jimmy?!? Oh God, Hugh! Bryan!!! He's awake!"

 _Don't shout,_ James wanted to tell his ex-wife, but found that he didn't have the strength to even move his lips. The place he just arrived from was awfully quiet… although he couldn't remember where that had been… only that Hugh was there with him, too… well he thought so, anyway.

_Hugh—_

He tried calling, but it came out as a gasp. Was Hugh alright?

They were… skydiving? He thought he remembered… Did he have an accident? But the memory was elusive, and trying to follow it had led James to thinking about tea… or maybe pizza? His mind was a tangled mess and his head hurt.

Why were the lights so damn bright? They were never that bright in… in the place they've been at. _The place beyond the pines_ , his mind suddenly supplied but before he could make sense of it—the name was gone, carried away by the same elusive train of thoughts that ran amok in his head. No matter how wide he opened his eyes, all he could see was dark figures hovering above him, staring down at him… but he was too damn tired, and he wanted to go back to that place anyway—so he closed his eyes and let sleep claim his body, until he was drifting, drifting… up, up and away.

He was at the campsite again; the fire was lit in spite of the wet weather, and Hugh was gently playing with his hair. They were lying on a sofa, surrounded by pine trees.

"…Hugh?" James blinked his blue eyes in surprise; " _What happened?!"_

Their house—their lovely living room got stripped of its walls and stood in the middle of the forest, with the campfire replacing their luxurious, big hearth.

Hugh’s eyes were sad, but his smile was warm and genuine, "We did it Jimmy. We woke you up."

"So the light and the voices? That was real?"

James felt rather than saw Hugh nod; it was growing dark—the fire was dying out. He could just barely make out their clock—the only one he saw in Wayward Pines, hung on a tree trunk with its hand still missing. The numbers were gone too now, and the sight made James’s heart sink.

When he first woke up to a new, strange reality the little town felt like a prison… but now that he had Hugh as a partner—Wayward Pines felt more like a sanctuary. Seeing their once cozy home scattered among the trees this way was breaking his heart.

"Hugh… I forgot all about you up there; I forgot about Wayward Pines… I don't want to forget. I don't want to lose you."

"Then don't. Make new memories with me in real life." Hugh instructed while carefully praying James’s wedding band off. This time it came off effortlessly, yielding to its owner.

"No, please!" James begged, wanting his ring back, wanting his husband back. "Don't go—"

"Where would I go Jimmy?" Hugh chuckled, "You had me at hello, remember? I was always there… I always will be… all you have to do is let me in."

And Hugh pressed one last, loving kiss to his forehead while the fire flickered one last time, then died out.

 _I love you._ James's voice echoed in the dark.

 _—then join me in New York,_ _babe._


	15. Exactly two days slow

The next time that he woke, James swam in a sea of headache, but at least he could see again,

“Lisa?”

His voice was raspy and strained, but she heard him and her eyes jumped from the book she was reading to his face. _“Oh, god.”_ She rose and sat by the end of the bed, resting one hand on his legs through the covers while wiping her tears with the other. “You had me so worried.”

“He’s awake?” Bryan Singer jumped from his chair and approached the bed. _I saw you!_ James immediately thought, but didn’t say—he had no idea what it meant.

Then James turned his head, realizing someone else was there, sitting by the head of his bed…

“…Hugh?”

“Hey…” The man said. Tears were glistening in his beautiful eyes and James felt an irrational need to reach out and touch him, make sure that he was real.

“Hello, Jimmy.” Deb beat him to it as she rose to stand next to her husband and rested a hand on his broad shoulder. She, too, looked very emotional and he tried to remember what the hell happened…

The last thing he remembered was the house party.

“Where's J—”

“You mean the BFF you over-dosed with?” Lisa asked from the foot of his bed, “Not around at our request… for fairly obvious reasons.” She supplied angrily, tiredly.

“Over dosed?”

“On narcotics.” It was Hugh who answered this time around, unable to conceal his disappointment and anger. Hugh’s dislike of the said BFF probably didn't help any. “Your 'friend' was too high to call an ambulance, good thing a bunch of girls in their twenties were around.”

“Oh…” shame was coloring James's cheeks a bright shade of red. He couldn't remember the dream he just had, but he remembered feeling safe, feeling like a hero… the reality was the opposite; the reality was a nightmare and he felt like a total loser; he was in a coma due to drug abuse…? He was caught partying with a bunch of girls half his age…? Good luck mending that.

“How long was I out for?” He finally asked, unable to meet any of their accusing gazes.

"Over the weekend, 48 hours… it was the longest weekend of my life." Lisa's voice trembled and James's eyes filled with tears. He missed what they had with all his heart... she took more than just his happiness when she left, she took his innocence, the guy he used to be… and now her disappointment in him was breaking his heart all over again.

Just how bad were things anyway?

“Has it…” James struggled to find the right words, not wanting to come across as superficial or vain, but he needed to know as much as he was terrified of what he may hear, “Has the story reached anyone yet? Like, you know… the gossip columns and such?”

“No. We paid good money for you to be seen privately and discreetly, but you will have to start rehab as soon as you're out of here.” Lisa half whispered the last part, realizing that going into rehab rarely went unnoticed in L.A.

“Rehab?! I'm not an—”

“—It’s _not_ up for debate, James.” Hugh said so sternly and coldly that the younger man fell silent.

Suddenly, he was on the verge of a déjà vu—the Aussie's tough love felt strangely familiar… but the memory never came, and when the silence began getting on his nerves he looked up in time to catch Hugh signaling the others with a quick nod of his head.

Understanding the gesture, Bryan and Lisa got up and left the room. Only Hugh and Deb stayed by his bed.

James followed the movement with wide eyes, admittedly a little scared, until he finally dared meeting Hugh's severe gaze. He looked angry as hell, but Deb was smiling with her eyes, comforting him without saying a word. James loved her; she'd always been a great friend… And he loved Hugh, with all his heart he did. A sudden, childish need to crawl into Hugh's arms became overwhelmingly dire;

"Hugh…" He wasn't going to cry—he wasn't! But when Hugh took his right hand and held it between his bigger ones tears slipped from James's eyes uncontrollably.

"Don't cry," Hugh reached up to singlehandedly wipe away his tears, and James almost begged him not to stop, to never let him go. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hey… hey… listen to me Jimmy," Hugh waited until James calmed down. When the younger man was no longer crying he said, "Deb and I were thinking… we have a good friend who specializes in celebrity rehab, she's very discreet, and the kids are down under for the summer… you should come up to New York. Spend some time with us and away from them, clear your head."

Too emotional James couldn’t meet his eyes; there was this irrational, raw, crushing heartache that was gnawing at his chest, making it impossible for him to think straight—all he wanted was his co-star’s approval. He felt like a guy who’d been dumped and would do anything to get back together and stop the heartache—it was crazy, but painfully true; right then Hugh could have told him that they were moving to the moon, and that he can arrange for James to be catapulted up there—and the younger man would have said yes… The time he spent in a coma seemed to stir up his feeling for the perfect Aussie, feelings that James refused to even acknowledge when not heavily drunk.

Now, however, three deadly words were dangerously riding the tip of his tongue and he had to constantly bite them down.

It didn't help that the other man's kind offer had warmed his heart in ways he didn't expect; angry and disappointed in him as he was—Hugh was focusing on moving on and getting him better. The man didn't have a petty bone in his body, it seemed. But of course not, Hugh Jackman was perfect; not a chink in his armor. He was still waiting for an answer though, and James had to nod, not trusting he wouldn't burst into tears again if he tried talking.

Yes, he wanted to move to New York, leave L.A. behind for a while… he missed his old, goofy, shy self, the innocent guy who believed in love and happy endings, the guy from before the divorce… and he missed Hugh. Too proud and self-conscious to approach him, he was hoping the A-lister would be reminded of him, would stop James’s life from spiraling out of control… but it seemed Hugh needed a reminder, and maybe… maybe so did he…

They were still holding hands and, summoning all of his courage, James used his hold on Hugh to pull him towards him.

Understanding the unspoken request, Hugh bent down and gathered James into his arms. Over Hugh's shoulder Deb gave him one last reassuring smile before leaving the room, giving the two men some privacy.

 _Join me in New York, babe._ James was suddenly reminded, although the memory had no beginning or end, and no context. He couldn't recall Hugh ever saying that… nor did the Aussie ever call him babe. James liked it though. It made him wonder if maybe he should talk to Hugh about… well, about _them_. Because… well… he overdosed; he could have died. Life was too damn short for stupid mistakes and second guesses… wasn’t it?

 _This above all: to thine own self be true._ Mind still scattered, he was suddenly reminded of a quote out of Hamlet… which was strange and random, yet very fitting… it encouraged him to admit;

“Hugh… I’m scared.” His personal life was a mess… his career was a mess…

“I know Jimmy, but we’re going to get you through this.”

And strengthening his hold on Hugh Jackman, James Marsden felt weirdly positive, in spite of it all.

 

The End

 


End file.
